Paradise Lost
by Sandylee007
Summary: Since Jason Gideon left the team's been wondering what happened to him. Their newest case leads them to a unwanted answer and right into their worst nightmare. When a deadly chase begins the lines between right and wrong become blurred further than ever before. Will the team survive? And if they will, are they the same people they used to be? GORE CHARACTER DEATH
1. Prologue

A/N: It's ALWAYS a massive pleasure to write a request story. To be honest I'm pretty excited about toying with this particular story idea… (What can I say? I'm a fan of dark and twisted.)

DISCLAIMER: See all the names of those fabulous people at the end of the 'CM' –credits? Nope, I'm still not listed there. DAMNIT! (pouts and sulks)

FULL SUMMARY: Since Jason Gideon's departure the team and especially Dr. Spencer Reid have been wondering what happened to him. They get the just about last answer they would've wanted or been prepared for as a new case unfolds. When a deadly chase begins the lines between right and wrong become blurred further than ever before. It's such a short step to the dark side. Will they survive? And if they will, are they the same people they used to be?

WARNINGS: GORE. (Murders, blood, quite descriptive material…) Language. Adult themes. POTENTIAL CHARACTER DEATH. (There are some things from which people don't come out as the people they once were…)

Alrighty, then… (gulps) If there's still anyone out there, let's get started or my nerves get the best of me. I really hope that you'll enjoy this one!

* * *

**Paradise Lost**

* * *

Prologue

* * *

Earl Howley's blue eyes flew open as he unleashed a gasp that _hurt_. Broken ribs. Quite possibly several of them.

How the hell did he get into this mess? He'd… been leaving his cabin. That's right. He'd been packing his car when he heard steps. He never got the chance to take a look around before he'd been hurled against the vehicle, so that his forehead smashed against the back window and broke it. He remembered intense pain, all over his body. Apart from that… Nothing.

He twisted himself slightly although every single part of his body screamed protests, determined to see how bad the damage was. He winced. His left ankle was twisted into a unnatural position and there was blood all over his clothes, some of it even on the floor below him. Most of his skin was hidden by clothes but his black t-shirt allowed a view to his cut, badly bruised arms from which skin had been peeled off from several parts. He preferred no thinking about what his face looked like. The pain and feel of something sticky spoke loudly enough.

As though it would've made any difference he wondered if he'd managed to fight back at all. If he'd managed to damage the asshole who took him in return.

Earl blinked several times, working furiously to focus his eyes on his surroundings. The ceiling was gray, made of stone and marked with spots of mould. He could smell humidity. The air was so thick that he coughed loudly, irritating his ribs even further. His head swayed dangerously and for a few moments he was sure that he'd pass out. He didn't. Instead Earl was able to comprehend that he lay in a dark, laboratory like room that had shadows dancing absolutely everywhere. The reek from before mixed with that of blood, urine, feces and vomit. Filth covered everything – dust, oil, blood, bodily fluids… The whole room looked and smelled worse than a slaughterhouse. Enough so to make his heart begin to race and his blood to run cold.

_What the hell…?!_

It was at that very moment he noticed the security camera, hanging almost unnoticeably from the ceiling. A red light was blinking. Despite the fear rushing through him Earl's eyes narrowed. "Are you having fun, you son of a bitch?!" he snarled. "Is this amusing to you, huh? You've got me. So what the hell are you going to do with me?"

No one answered him, much like he'd been expecting. Instead his eyes shifted, sheer terror sharpening them. There was a metallic door on the other side of the room. With something red and quite ominous words had been drawn to it.

_ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS TO OPEN THE DOOR_

Earl swallowed thickly, his head buzzing and aching. He was no idiot. A very large part of his brain screamed that this was going to be a trap, that he was about to make a disastrous mistake. But the desire for freedom was greater than all else. And so he moved, ignoring the sullen fact that his body was far from well enough to really endure something so dramatic. After what felt like ages he'd dragged himself to the door and reached out a unsteady hand.

Earl screamed, louder than he ever had in his entire life.

Despite the fact that his skin was practically on fire it took a mighty while before he managed to pull his hand away from the burning hot metal. He gasped, no longer finding it from his lungs to scream, and tried desperately to clear his head.

That son of a bitch… That guy had created a trap and he'd been stupid enough to walk right into it. Stupid enough to think that there was still hope for him. But… What choice did he have?

He pushed the door open, screaming out of pain like some sort of a wild animal. Pushed, using absolutely all of the little strength there was in his body. Ice filled his veins as soon as the sight greeted him. He could've sworn that his heart stopped for a second.

"Fuck…!"

The room was tiny, more like a closet than an actual space. And there, on the wall directly before him, was a mirror. Words had been written on it with by then familiar ominous red.

_LOOK AT THE FACE OF A MONSTER_

_SPEAK OUT THEIR NAMES AND REDEEM YOURSELF BEFORE GOING TO HELL_

There, around his neck… What the hell was that metallic thing? It seemed to have spikes on it because he could actually feel it digging through skin. Some blood had seeped, staining his pale skin. Gasping, nearly hyperventilating, he scratched and pulled frantically but only succeeded in making the device grab harder. It was tightening, he could feel it. Soon…

Tears of terror, rage and despair filled his eyes before he screamed out. "Please…! You can't do this – I… I have a family! Let me out of here, please…! I'll do anything, just…!" Words ran out as he realized that whoever his captor was planned on showing no sympathy. Instead the device kept digging deeper. It was getting hard to breathe. In that desperate moment his eyes nailed on the words.

_SPEAK OUT THEIR NAMES_

Earl opened his mouth. His lips quivered and it took long before any sound came out. He hoped from the bottom of his heart that they were loud enough for his captor to hear. "Jemma… Jemma Harding. Kimberly Thorne. Olivia Peet." He closed his eyes for a second and winced. The pain on his neck was becoming unbearable. "Is… Isabella Manson. Layla Gordon."

He waited, and waited, a fool's hope spreading in his aching, tight chest. No relief came. Instead the decive squeezed even more tightly. His eyes widened, filled with a brand new set of tears.

"You… You were supposed to…!" he managed. And after that he couldn't say another word ever again. The spikes had nearly reached his windpipe. At that very second all lights went out, leaving him to die in utter darkness.

The last thing Earl Howley ever saw of this world was the reflection of his own horrified face.

* * *

Dr. Spencer Reid gasped like he'd just finished the longest dive, his eyes wide and a sheen of cold sweat lingering on his forehead. His head spun while he struggled to make his madly jumping heart calm down. His thoughts were rushing all over the place, making it impossible to comprehend anything.

After managing to calm down slightly Spencer looked around. A bout of embarrassment made him blush as soon as he realized the he was in a metro. He must've been even more exhausted than he'd thought to just fall asleep like this. Several passengers were looking at him funnily and he couldn't help wondering if he'd screamed out loud in the nightmare's grip.

"Sorry", he muttered, running a far from steady hand through his hair. "Just… a bad dream." Just like those that'd kept him awake the night before.

Mercifully his stop came soon, allowing him an escape from all those prying eyes. He breathed in fresh air, letting it clear his head. He couldn't linger in the world of chilling dreams any longer. He had work to do.

By the time he made it to the briefing room the rest of the team was already there. They gave looks of worry on his exhausted appearance and he wished from the bottom of his heart that he would've been able to just say that he was alright. Derek Morgan's eyebrow bounced up. "We were already starting to wonder if you'd show up at all."

Spencer cleared his throat, taking a seat. Where did that foul taste in his mouth come from? "Sorry. The metro was late." That, at least, was honest.

He could actually feel how badly the others would've wanted to press on but thankfully they had work to focus on. He didn't manage to breathe properly until Aaron Hotchner looked away from him and spoke. "Garcia, could you introduce the case to us?"

Penelope nodded with a slightly nauseated look on her face. "The local police of Birmingham, Alabama, contacted us. So far they have four murders in their hands, each of them a week apart from the previous. The latest took place yesterday." She put the pictures on display and looked away as fast as she could. "Four men, all of them from ages of twenty-five to thirty-five. Intelligent, highly educated."

"Not exactly in the highest risk group", David Rossi muttered.

Penelope went on after a second. "The… The UnSub grabs a new victim three days after the body of the previous one has been found. He keeps and tortures them for four days before killing them with…" She didn't really need to say it out loud. They all saw the slashed throats.

The victims were battered, bruised, cut and covered in blood. But nonetheless Spencer noticed something that made his skin crawl. He couldn't help wondering if the others saw it too. Slender figure… Brown hair of varying lengths… Glazed over hazel eyes…

The UnSub clearly had a type.

Yes, the team noticed. A tense silence filled the room until Derek spoke. "Except for the looks, do they have anything in common?"

Penelope swallowed thickly and sighed. "I'm sorry, but… Not much that I could find. Alex Durbin, the first victim, had almost finished his third year of med school studies. The killer lured him along from a local bar." She bit her lip. "The second victim, Jonathan Nash, was a father of two and a high school teacher. Apparently everyone loved him. He was on his way home from work when something made him pull over. He was never seen alive since." She had to look away from the pictures once more to maintain her professional front. "The third victim was Nicholas Stone. He… He left behind a wife and a five-months-old baby girl. He would've turned thirty next month. He was a lawyer. According to his secretary he vanished during or after a meeting with a potential client." She took a deep breath, folding her arms tightly to her chest. "The latest victim, Kenneth Jackson, is what truly hit the local police. He was a detective and a father of three. He vanished on duty. His… His best friend found his body."

"Oh crap…", David groaned with a wince. They all knew just how messy this part would make their investigations. Understandable as their feelings were dealing with angry cops who'd lost one of their own wouldn't be a joyride.

Penelope wasn't finished, though. "Kenneth… He was the only one who said that he felt like someone was following him around before his death."

Derek gritted his teeth loudly. It was was Emily Prentiss who spoke what the rest of them were thinking. "He's keeping an eye on them, waiting to spot the perfect opportunity."

Aaron frowned, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded to his chest. "So… We're most likely looking for a man at the age of 25 to 40. He's probably caucasian."

Spencer nodded slowly, his head buzzing and humming. "He'll have to be socially suave and intelligent, most likely well educated. He was well spoken enough to catch these men off guard and smart enough to be able to grab most of them in broad daylight."

JJ bit her lower lip and Spencer could've sworn that her eyes shifted towards him for a fleeting second. "We've got only a few more days until he takes another victim."

Aaron nodded. "We'll take off in thirty minutes. We'll talk more during the flight."

Spencer was just about to make a speedy escape when a hand grabbed his shoulder. He shivered a little until he turned around to find JJ's worried face. "Are you okay, Spence?"

Spencer did his best to create a convincing front. "I'm fine. I've just… been having these weird dreams lately." He was forced to bite back a yawn and wondered when was the last time he slept properly. "I guess I'm just tired. It can't be anything more than a bad feeling."

JJ's smile was far from reassuring. "Yeah. Just a bad feeling."

None of the teammembers noticed the news broadcast on Earl Howley's murder. The murder took place in Fairfield, Alabama.

* * *

TBC OR NOT?

* * *

A/N: So… It looks like we got TWO killers with the price of one, ladies and gentlemen. (That is, of course, if all is as simple as it seems…) And it's always nasty when one of the profiler matches the victimology, isn't it? (shudders)

Soooo… The choice is yours, my friends. Should I continue this, or sail towards new waters? PLEASE, let me know! It's always nerve wrecking to start planning on a new story so I'd be REALLY happy to know. This is your chance to gather some good karma, ya know?

Whatever the case, thank you so much for reading! Perhaps I'll be seeing ya around.

Take care!


	2. The First Step on the Road to Hell

A/N: I'm back with a brand new update, folks! Yay?

THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for your love and support thus far! (GLOMPS) It really means the world to me, ya know? So thank you! It always feels good to know that someone cares.

Awkay, before I get all mushy and gushy, let's get rolling! I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride. (gulps)

(**UPDATED WITH A RESPONSE TO ANONYMOUS REVIEW.**)

* * *

'_Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win._'  
(Stephen King)

* * *

The First Step on the Road to Hell

* * *

Birmingham was painfully hot as the BAU-team marched into the police station, all of them sweaty and far more anxious than usual. The tension wasn't eased at all as they took in the atmosphere around them. Most of the people working there gave them long looks, some glared, several eyes on them were full of mistrust and the rest seemed just too preoccupied by other things to care. It didn't take a profiler to understand what was going on.

They'd lost one of their own. Whoever the son of a bitch responsible was they would've wanted to catch him on their own, to keep the whole thing inside the family. That although asking for help had been the best thing to do.

Human beings aren't known for rationality while grieving.

"Well ain't this a warm welcome", David Rossi muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm while his dark eyes darted around.

"My apologies. This isn't the best possible time to meet my men." No matter how friendly the unfamiliar female voice was it startled them. They all turned to see a woman in her late forties with long, firmly tied blond hair and unnaturally sharp gray eyes. There were wrinkles of worry and hard life all over her face. Her eyes didn't smile while her lips did. "I'm chief Leah Morris." She went on after a round of introductions. "Thank you so much for coming on such short notice."

Aaron Hotchner nodded. "Of course." The man glanced somewhat warily at his surroundings. "Perhaps we could go and talk somewhere a bit more…?" He didn't quite want to say the last word in fear of what it might do to the little trust this woman had on the team.

Chief Morris nodded, gesturing them to follow. "Why don't you come to my office? I think you could all use a good air conditioning and some cold water."

Soon they found themselves from a rather large and blissfully cool room. They all took a couple of moments to relax until chief Morris spoke. "I haven't consulted the FBI before so I'm not entirely sure of how this works", she confessed, a frown on her face.

This time David took the lead. "We have a preliminary profile but it's vague at best. To build a more solid one we'll have to see the crime scenes and all the evidence your men have collected so far. In this case we may have to visit the morgue. We would also like to interview the families of the victims to get to know their habits. It may help us figure out why the killer chose them."

Derek Morgan's eyes held a touch of hesitation before he spoke. "We'll need the full cooperation of your men. There's no room for territorial disputes if we want to find this guy."

The chief nodded, her eyes nothing but steel. "I can't promise you miracles but I'll do whatever I can. The victims deserve that much."

Clearly deciding that they'd let enough time go to waste Aaron looked at them all with sharp, authoritative eyes. "Reid and Morgan, visit the latest crime scene. Perhaps you'll find something. Dave and JJ, you stay here and go through all the evidence that you can find. Prentiss, you'll come with me to the morgue. Let's catch this UnSub before he has the time to kill again. He may already have chosen his next target."

* * *

Emily Prentiss detested morgues. She couldn't imagine a single person who would've been particularly fond of them but her stomach flipped upside down whenever she walked into one. That's why she shivered upon following Aaron and a coroner whose name she just couldn't remember into the chilling, strangely hollow room.

For some reason her mind projected an image of Ian Doyle, and then one of herself laying in a room exactly like this one.

Aaron noticed, of course. "Are you alright?"

Emily nodded, sending a mental curse at herself. She worked hard on collecting whatever little composure she managed to find. "Yeah, yeah. Let's just get this over with." The faster they did the better.

Aaron nodded, obviously not convinced but apparently deciding that the case was more urgent than her momentary crisis. Emily was glad. The last thing she needed was being treated as a victim.

The coroner, a woman in her mid-thirties with brown eyes and neatly tied long hair of the same color, didn't seem to notice their exchange. She was already pulling out a body. "I was just about to contact that police, actually. I noticed something… interesting."

Emily's eyebrow bounced up. Finally her focus was fully back on the case. "Interesting?" she repeated.

The coroner nodded. Emily was glad that she didn't reveal the full body (the last thing she needed was a glimpse to dead eyes and face), instead only uncovered a hand. "I noticed it with the others as well. At first I thought that it was a coincidence, but now… I'd say that it looks more like a pattern of some sort." Before they could ask she turned the hand gently, so that they could see the fingertips. Sure enough, the tip of the index finger was covered in dark ink.

Emily shivered, her eyes widening a fraction while she folded her arms to her chest. Yes. Interesting indeed.

His face a flawless mask of stone Aaron picked up his cell phone and dialed numbers. The response was instant. "Dave? We just discovered the UnSub's trophy." The man's eyes trailed towards the body. Emily wasn't sure how alarming it was that the look in them didn't change. "He takes their fingerprints."

* * *

Back at the station ten minutes after the phone call David's eyebrow arched as he discovered how tense and nervous Jennifer Jareau, who was usually very calm around him, suddenly seemed. She kept fiddling with her hair and every five seconds cast a longing look towards her cell phone. "You won't be able to make it ring with your will", he remarked in the end.

She cast a sheepish look towards him. "Sorry. It's just…" She sighed, rubbing her face with one hand. "Will and I… We fought before I left. Henry's got a stomach flue." She chewed her lower lip. "I know that this case is important, but… Sometimes I just…" She trailed off.

David nodded, a look of sympathy on his face. "I understand." And he did, he most definitely did.

Once again focusing on work David began to go through the next pile of papers (muttering under his breath that '_Reid would've already done this by now_'). He was about to set the papers aside as unimportant until something caught his eye. His eyes widened while the words burned their way in and his head spun. Then he was moving, never even hearing JJ calling out to him.

Chief Morris jumped with startle when he barged into her office. "Agent Rossi? What…?"

David's eyes and blood burned as he threw the papers far from gently to the desk, right underneath her nose. Evidence of another crime. "When were you going to tell us that there was one victim who survived?"

* * *

Derek was confident enough to say that he knew Dr. Spencer Reid better than most people had bothered to try and get to know the sometimes infuriatingly withdrawn genius. After several miserable occasions of missing the warning signs he'd learned to detect when the doctor was upset. That's why there was a frown on his face while he drove the rental car towards the newest crime scene.

In the end Derek decided that enough was enough. "Alright. We've been here for… what, an hour and a half and so far you haven't spouted out a single fact or statistic."

Spencer's eyebrow twitched with irritation. Well, at least it was a reaction. "I'm not a computer, Morgan", the younger agent snapped like a grumpy five-year-old. Then, quickly, got a hold of himself and sighed. "Sorry. I'm just…" Trembling hands ran through already uncombed looking hair. "Something about this case is just bothering me."

Derek shivered. "I can't blame you." Hell, if he would've been working on a case where every single victim looked like a nearly perfect image of him… He mused for a moment before voicing the thought that'd been sitting on the tip of his tongue from the beginning. "Look, no one would think any less of you if you'd sit this one out." In fact, Derek would've been whole a lot happier knowing that Spencer was home, safe, as far away as possible from this sadistic asshole they were currently after.

Spencer, of course, didn't exactly share his view. The genius' eyes flashed before the man sighed. "I'll be fine. All I need is a good night of sleep."

Derek nodded, pleased to discover that Spencer was paying at least some attention to his own wellbeing. "That, and a proper meal." He fought the urge to poke the doctor's nearly visible ribs. "'Can't let you become all skin and bones, pretty boy."

Spencer's slight smile made him feel a great deal better as well. How about that. Some progress at least.

The silence that lingered in the vehicle was a comfortable, companionable one. They both shivered slightly upon reaching the crime scene, the deviously quiet side of a small road, with some huge trees providing shade and cover. Some blood could still be seen on the ground, surrounded by the all too familiar crime scene tape. A crime scene investigator was still there taking pictures, dressed to his all white uniform that must've been unbearably hot in such a weather.

Hearing the car doors and their steps the man stopped his work and focused on them. The two of them revealed their badges. "We're agents Derek Morgan and Dr. Spencer Reid, from the FBI's BAU. We came to see the crime scene", he explained.

The crime scene investigator nodded slowly while approaching. They couldn't see the frown on the pale face properly before the man shifted the mask that'd been covering nearly half of his face. "Garreth Ivory", was offered without a handshake. There was a look of confusion in the man's green eyes. "Look all you want, I'll answer wherever I can. I… don't understand what more you'd be looking for, though. That agent of yours already spent an hour here."

A flare of alarm ran through Derek. "What agent?" Spencer beat him to asking.

Garreth shrugged. "You know, the older chap. Some dark hair, dark eyes… He asked about a million questions before he thanked me and left. Jason… Something. Sorry, I'm not much good with names. He had a badge, though." Fright appeared to the man's eyes. "He… _was _one of you guys, wasn't he?"

Derek and Spencer looked at each other, disbelief and shock wide open in their eyes. Was it really possible? _Jason Gideon?_ But… How? And why, after all these years?

What the hell was going on?

None of the three noticed the quite harmless looking, cream colored car that'd been parked a safe distance away. Nor did they feel they intently observing eyes. Mozart's 'Requiem' played when the vehicle finally began to move and disappeared.

It wasn't until the car was gone Spencer looked towards the spot with a frown to see no one.

* * *

Bartender Claus Meshner dared to say that he was fairly good at his job. He never asked too many questions yet also never served underaged or those who clearly couldn't handle another drop. He was able to strike up a conversation with anyone.

That day he had his gaze fixed on a TV-screen while he kept a careful eye on the most generous customer he'd had in days. Even after fifteen drinks the man was still sitting firmly. He wasn't sure if that was worrying or a good sign. Nor did care too much, really, as long as the man didn't pass out on him or throw up.

On the screen a very attractive news anchor with long, blond hair and huge, baby blue eyes was delivering a report that made his skin tingle far more than her appearance. "… _Earl Howley has become the prime suspect in the murders of three women. His body was found from a local landfill site… So far the police remains quiet on details…_" There was, however, loudly speaking footage where the man's modestly covered body was lifted from amongst rotting waste. Just as they were about to get the body down an arm slipped from under the white sheet. The arm was covered in dried blood.

Claus gasped despite himself and shivered. "Jesus Christ…!"

"He slaughtered five women, you know? How many more would he have killed before he would've been caught by the police? They may have never even found him", his customer pointed out in a voice that held absolutely no emotions. In a perfectly sober voice. "I'd call that justice."

"Yeah, I guess." He looked back towards the screen and the body, and fought the need to gag dryly. "But that's still messed up." He then noticed that his customer was getting up. "Would you care for one more?"

"No, I think I've had enough." Far more money than the worth of the drinks was laid down slowly. "Have a good day."

Claus nodded, not bothering to look as the other man went. He knew that they'd never see each other again. "You too."

(It wasn't until later Claus came to think that the news report only spoke of _three_ dead women.)

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: Well… This sure seems like a dark little one. And trust me when I say this, it's only going to get bleaker. TO THOSE WORRIED… Don't worry, there's no need to remember the names of all those OCs. (chuckles) I'm not that much of a sadist.

Soooo… Was that any good, at all, in your books? PLEASE, let me know! It'd be the perfect opportunity to bring about the spirit of Christmas early. (grins)

Until next time, my friends! I really hope that I'll be seeing ya all then.

Take care!

* * *

**Guest: ** First of all, I'm so, so sorry that this response to your review comes so late! (winces) I'm had this insane week and a half, which is why my head's all over the place. So, I'M SORRY! (hugs)

Awww, it's flattering to hear that you've missed me. (grins from ear to ear and blushes)

Yup, two killers. You're totally getting that right! (nod, nod) One, with the killing of Earl Howley at the beginning of the prologue. (The team has not been asked to help with this case, which is why all they know is what's on TV.) The second, with the deaths of those Reid look-alikes. How Gideon fits into all this... Heh, don't worry, you'll find out soon enough. (smirks and winks) Let's hope that Reid won't end up into a trouble in all of this! It's unnerving that he fits the killer's taste so well...

'Glad to hear you enjoyed the nightmare scene! We'll see if there's more to come.

Humongous thank yous for the review (and once more, I'm sorry)! I really hope that you'll be staying tuned.


	3. The Parade of Demons

A/N: The new chapter's here, folks! Are ya ready?

First, of course! Thank you so much for your love and support – reviews, listings… These past few days haven't been the best but you've given me something to smile and jump around about. So thank you! (hugs)

Awkay, before this all gets too sappy… Let's go! Here's hoping that you'll have a good ride.

* * *

The Parade of Demons

* * *

The hospital was unnaturally quiet as Aaron walked through the hallways, Emily advancing right beside him with a grim look on her face. The quiet was a relief, actually. The last thing Aaron needed right now – with all the open questions and the fast approaching headache – was a noisy crowd.

It didn't take the two of the them long to find David and JJ, who didn't seem to be in any higher spirits. Chief Leah Morris stood right beside the profilers. All three of them were staring through the window separating them from a patient in a small room.

"Before you call him a victim let me clarify that his name is Charles Stewart. It took us a long time to connect his attack with this case. He's the youngest of all the victims, only twenty-five at the time he was taken. He worked in a local bar. That's where the… UnSub picked him from three months ago." She gritted her teeth before managing to talk. "He was only missing for half a day but he fought back, with all his might. That's why he suffered a lot more damage than the other victims. In the end his heart simply gave out. They were able to revive him but there's no telling how much his brain ended up getting damaged. The rest of the injuries left a extensive amount destruction. Right now he's kept in a medically induced coma to ensure that he's as comfortable as possible. It's a miracle that he's made it this far. It's only a matter of time, perhaps days, before that asshole has no survived victims left." The chief sighed, her eyes dark with sadness over the poor soul. "He was the first one attacked."

David shivered with repulsion. "He was the UnSub's first. His only mistake. He's developed a lot since."

Chief Morris nodded, clearly not finding the words for such a situation.

It was at that moment Aaron peered in. Peered in and felt cold shivers run through his whole body. The person in the bed was visibly in a miserable condition, bandages, cuts and bruises covering numerous spots. Charles' whole body was swollen from trauma and medication. But still…

He could've just as well been looking at Spencer Reid.

It took him longer than it should've to recover enough to notice that the patient wasn't alone. Right beside the bed, holding the injured one's hand, was a tall young man with shortcut light brown hair and green eyes. There was a heartwrenching look on the visitor's face. Aaron couldn't stop himself from wondering if he looked like that while holding Haley's dead body.

"Who's the visitor?" Emily asked quietly.

Chief Morris' eyes filled with sorrow once more. "Erik, his partner. They've been together for over six years." She swallowed. "He was the one who found Charles, after…" They weren't sure if she would've been able to continue even if her cell phone hadn't started ringing. She cleared her throat before starting to head out. "Excuse me."

As soon as she'd left David spoke, his tone dark and low. "That man over there… He's the only one still alive who's seen the UnSub."

JJ's eyes flashed. She bit her lip. "You heard chief Morris. In his condition… Would he even be able to reveal anything? And the mental trauma of living through all that again… It could kill him."

There was a torn expression of David's face. "I know. Trust me, I know. But… Let's face it. Right now we have next to nothing solid in our hands. If he's our only hope of catching that guy – his killer… Wouldn't he want us to do whatever we can?"

Fortunately none of them had to answer those questions for just then it was Aaron's cell phone that came to life. It was Derek. He took a few steps and entered a hallway with no patient rooms before picking up. "What's going on?"

"_Hotch, you're not going to believe this. Some guy had already visited the crime scene, claiming that he was a BAU-member._" Those words alone were enough to cause cold shivers. They were nothing on the ones that followed next. "_Judging by his description, Reid and I think that it was Gideon._"

* * *

Spencer once said that he did some of his best work under intense terror. That might explain how his mind could possibly work as fast as it did on that day, Alabama's heat gluing his shirt to his skin and something not quite reasonable tightening his chest. His wrist was sore as it tried to keep up with the speed of his head while he wrote down absolutely every single piece of the puzzle they had so far.

They had the victims thus far.

They had a MO, including the disturbed detail that the UnSub liked to take the victims' fingerprints as mementos.

And now they had a living victim. Quite possible not a very helpful victim but nonetheless. A victim and his beloved one who'd found him after the assault. Could that be worth something?

Spencer drew and wrote, made his notes, finally put down about a million markings. He worked until he was panting and sweating, lingering somewhere on the edge of losing his mind and falling into a state of shock. His heart was hammering madly while he stared at his creation.

It was a map of insanity. Full of red and black. It was a puzzle the pieces of which just wouldn't float together.

Spencer shivered and gulped, his whole body trembling under the aftershock of adrenaline and brainstorm.

/ _"I'm waiting for you, Spencer Reid."_ /

"Reid?" The voice made him gasp like someone who'd been pulled underwater without a warning and against his better knowledge his hand twitched slightly, towards where his gun was held. For a moment the two voices echoed together until his head come to a realization that only one of them was real. No matter how hard he tried to tell himself that it was insane to feel that way his skin crawled when a hand was laid to his shoulder. For a moment it was silent as Derek stared at his work. "Woah…! You're seriously something else, pretty boy."

Spencer frowned, still trying to see, still trying to understand. His own vivid, horrific nightmares mixed with those portrayed in the photographs displayed right before his eyes. His arms folded even more tightly. "I just… I can't shake off this feeling. This feeling that all we need is right there in front of us and I just can't see it. I almost have it, and then…" He gestured with his hand.

Derek sighed. "That's what this team is for, genius. You're not the only one who's trying to crack this. We're all in this, you know?"

A tremor crossed Spencer's being. The words slipped out before he managed to stop them. "No, we're not _all_ in this. You're the ones chasing him. I'm the one _he's_ chasing." He finally looked towards Derek, terror and stone hard determination blending together in his painfully tight chest. "He'll come after me, Morgan. I can tell that he's already seen me and is keeping an eye on me. We both know that it's only a matter of when he tries. And when he does I want to be ready for him. I want to have a fighting chance."

Derek's expression was that of pain, anxiety and rage. The man gritted his teeth, hard. "Even if he'd for some reason choose you… We're not going to let him find you, Reid. I swear. No matter what happens… It'll _never_ go there."

Spencer nodded and looked away. The cold overtaking his bones didn't ease. He really, truly wished that he would've been able to rely on Derek's words.

The silence lasted for a very long time until Derek spoke all of a sudden. "And by the way… Whenever you feel ready we can talk about how you feel now that Gideon seems to be back in the game."

* * *

True, as it was the team couldn't question Charles over the events of his attack. But they still had Erik. Emily concluded that she had to be a real mashochist when she offered herself for the far from pleasant task.

Apart from the machines Charles' room was completely quiet when Emily entered slowly, as though afraid that she'd disturb someone. In an instant Erik's eyes swept her way, making sure that there was no threat. She attempted to smile but had a feeling that it failed miserably. "I'm agent Emily Prentiss from the FBI's BAU-unit. We're investigating a series of murders and it seems that the killer is the same man who attacked Charles."

Erik shuddered on his seat, his grip on Charles' hand tightening. "You want me to tell everything I remember." Clearly he'd done this before.

Emily swallowed, feeling absolutely horrible all of a sudden. "I can't even imagine what it must've been like. I understand if you don't…"

"It's alright. It's not like I could really forget about that day for even a second." Erik's eyes were distant. Like the man hadn't been there with her anymore. "He… He had to go to work because another bartender was sick. I was mad at him. We were supposed to spend the night together. I didn't even…" The man swallowed and for a moment Emily was sure that she'd have to fetch a bucket. But then, just as abruptly as it'd come, the moment of weakness was over. Nothing erased the pain in those eyes, though. "In the end I fell asleep, or passed out. I can't remember. When I woke up it was already the following morning. And Charles… He wasn't home yet. At first I thought that he was just upset with me but when more hours passed by and he wouldn't return my phone calls I realized that something was wrong." Tears shimmered in the man's eyes. He most likely didn't even notice them. "I… I found him from a dark alley and I… I was sure that he'd die before the fucking ambulance would even get there. But then… Then this man appeared." Through building up and shedding tears Erik frowned, fidgeting with determination to keep himself together. "A little bit shorter than me, short brown hair and gray eyes. Could've been in his mid-thirties. He helped me with Charles. Treated some of the wounds. Stopped the worst of bleeding. Told me what to do. He was there until the ambulance came and I never even asked his name. All I could think about was Charles."

Emily frowned, her brain ticking furiously. "You sound like there's something about him that bothers you", she pointed out.

Erik nodded, his eyes sharpening considerably. "I… can't explain, not really. But something about him felt out of place, even in the state of mind I was. I didn't want him around Charles, no matter how hard he claimed that he was there to help."

Emily inhaled. "You did mention that man in your report, right?"

She was surprised by the bitter, almost pained snort Erik gave. The man wiped his face with the hand that wasn't holding Charles'. "Yeah, I did. I fucking did. But I don't think that anyone took me seriously. I was in a shock – they would've wanted to hospitalize me, too. In a shock, and well…" Fresh tears formed but didn't fall, like the man had already cried out everything there was in him. Those haunted eyes became fixed on Charles. "That's… That's the other thing we fought over. I was drunk. Wasted. Again. Still a solid 2,4 by the time the police interrogated me at the hospital. They probably took everything I said as a drunk's babbling." Erik's jaw tightened. "But I know what I saw. Because since that day… Since that day, that man's face has been in my head all the time, burned there. I can't get him out, no matter how hard I try."

On the spur of the moment Emily brushed his free hand briefly. He shuddered and she attempted to offer a smile. "I believe you", she swore. "And I promise you that we'll do whatever we can to find that man. To figure out who did this to Charles."

Erik nodded, not looking away from Charles. The 'thank you' was there, albeit unvoiced. It took a second before the man spoke quietly. "Do you know what's the bitter irony in all this?" His breath shuddered, in a perfect sync with Charles'. "When we first met he became my AA-sponsor. He always told me that one day he'd help me stop drinking. That he'd do that even if it was the death of him." Erik gritted his teeth so hard that it must've hurt. "Well… He succeeded."

When Emily finally left the room she felt so drained, physically and emotionally, that it took all she had to remain upright. She'd thought that the others had left. That's why she blinked with surprise upon finding JJ from the waiting room. The blonde's eyes were fixed on a TV-screen. A news report was running.

Walking closer Emily was able to hear the rapidly balding, brown eyed reporter who'd tried desperately to hide the fact that he was already middle-aged with horrible clothes. "_… where Earl Howley's brutal murder has taken a entirely new twist. Over the past day and a half he's changed from a victim to a potential perpetrator. Previously missing evidence links him to the murders of at least four women…_"

Emily shivered. "The world is going crazy." She arched an eyebrow when JJ jumped at the sound of her voice. The other woman appeared pale and wide eyed. "What's wrong? You look like you'd seen a ghost."

JJ shook her head as though she'd been attempting to clear it. "I'm… not sure. I have no idea why but I have a really bad feeling." The blonde then focused on her. "How did it go?" Seeing the look in her eyes the woman winced. "That well, huh?"

Emily sighed, the fatigue from before returning tenfold. "We've gotta gather together. There's something the whole team needs to know."

* * *

In the end it became clear that Spencer needed a break. The genius would've never, ever admitted it out loud, of course, but he worked amongst a group of profilers. Eventually Aaron ordered him to go out before he'd overtax himself, the unit chief's tone leaving no room for negotiations. (He was also firmly instructed not to go far. Derek announced, without a hint of joking, that there'd be a search party after him if he wouldn't return in twenty-five minutes.) Spencer jumped to the chance a little bit more eagerly than he would've liked. To be honest he felt ready to fall asleep standing up. His feet led him to a place that felt safe and natural.

The café on the other side of the street carried a smell of fresh coffee as he entered and he inhaled greedily. After a moment of thought he chose a tiny, isolated table in the very furthest corner and slumped down, trying to push down the whisper of a headache.

Spencer shouldn't have been surprised to have the echo of nightmares whispering in his head. These days they hardly ever left him alone.

/ _"I'm sorry, Spencer. But the pleasure… can only come through pain and blood."_ /

"I'm sorry that I never called, Spencer."

That voice, so very familiar despite all the years passed, made Spencer freeze entirely. (Of course he remembered. How could he ever forget, even without his eidetic memory?) The mug of coffee paused a millimetre from his lips with a unnaturally loud gasp. Suddenly spiking adrenaline sharpened his eyes. His lips parted but the breathed out word took a long time to fall out. "Gideon?" His voice carried a slight sharp edge. It definitely didn't belong to the still struggling, slightly lost boy Jason Gideon walked away from, leaving behind only a letter. So much had changed from those days.

Jason, who was sitting somewhere behind him, already knew that much. "It hurts to change so much, doesn't it?" All of a sudden the older man sounded very tired.

Slowly Spencer put the mug down, for a moment not knowing what the hell he was supposed to say or do next. "Why are you here, after all this time? Why are you digging on this case?" He licked his lips, tempted to shift himself so that he could've looked at the other man, but something held him still. "What are you looking for?"

Jason sighed. "The same thing as you", the man murmured. "Justice."

Spencer shivered. His fingers were tingling, twitching. His mind was speeding on with a horrifying speed, bits and pieces clicking together with such a force that made him shudder. "Gideon… What happened to you, back then?"

Jason hummed softly. "You saw what happened. Or the beginning of it, at least. I was destroyed. And then I came back to life." A chair screeched when the former agent got up. "This world… It's full of monsters, Spencer. And sometimes it takes one to catch one."

Spencer swallowed thickly, suddenly very familiar with the feel of his gun. "What have you done?" he demanded in a slightly choked tone.

"Do you really want me to tell you? Do you even _need_ me to tell you?"

Spencer tried to focus on breathing. His hand was on the weapon. It would've been so easy… "No", he admitted.

"Hmm. That's exactly why I chose you to the team. You're always one step ahead of the others, whether you know it or not." Jason was still for a moment. Then, slowly, steps began to distance. "Just so you know… I only came here because I wanted to talk to you, one last time. I've missed you." A one last sigh. "Take care of yourself. The monster may be closer than you think." The man was already practically out of earshot. "Goodbye, Spencer."

The café's door closed unnaturally loudly and for several moments Spencer just sat there, breathing heavily, his eyes wide and his hand clutching his gun like it'd been his soul lifeline. Throughout that whole twisted exchange he hadn't managed to move. Now he realized that his whole body was trembling.

Did he… imagine all that?

No. The scent of Jason's cologne was still lingering in the air.

After ages, it seemed, he finally managed to grab his cell phone. His voice was far from even. "Garcia, could you… do me a favor?"

* * *

In a tiny room to which only a single red light provided its chilling glow a pair of gleeming eyes examined the pictures that'd been scattered _everywhere_. The pictures were fully ready and such a light wouldn't have been necessary anymore but he preferred it. Somehow it helped him see things more clearly.

Things, like those haunted, watchful eyes. (Which were already waiting for him. Like the picture of what was to come had already been imprinted to them.)

Things, like the slight shiver that'd went through his newest target's body only moments before the picture had been taken, sealing the irreplaceable moment forever. (Good grief, that young man had most definitely been brought into the city just for him.)

Things, like the lick of lips. (The hunger was almost unbearable.)

But he would've never made it this far if he'd been blind to all the risk factors. If he'd been careless. If he'd been in too much of a haste to finish the chase properly.

His prey was never alone and that was a huge problem. The man's companions carried guns and had sharp minds. And his prey, no matter how innocent looking, could also turn out to be quite a challenge. The pretty little thing had a deadly aim, he'd learned after a careful yet subtle background check. A deadly aim and a equally dangerous mouth.

The FBI didn't recruit weaklings.

Oh yes, he'd need to be careful. He'd never hunted anything this dangerous before. But that made things all the more exciting. He enjoyed the challenge. In fact, he also rather enjoyed it when the preys attempted to fight back.

They were at their most arousing right before they lost all hope.

In that tiny room, with Mozart's 'Requiem' playing, the monster sighed lengthily, certain parts hardening with anticipation. Sighed, letting his twisted mind dream and fantasize. And little by bit those pitch black dreams began to transform into visions of a even darker reality.

"Hello, Spencer."

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: Creeeeeeeeeepyyyyyyyy… It looks like our beloved profilers will have quite a hurdle in their hands. We'll see if they're fast enough to keep Reid from getting hurt.

I've really, really gotta get going now. (winces) But **PLEASE**, leave a review before you flee as well! Awww, c'mon, I know ya wanna. It'd make my heart flutter with joy. (gives puppy's eyes)

Until next time! I TRULY hope that you'll all be on board for that one.

Take care!


	4. Neverending Nightmares

A/N: Yup, here I am once again, ya all! (grins like a madwoman, then clears throat) Eh, sorry. I've been typing like crazy lately and I'm pretty sure that soon I'll be in a state of mind where I see pink bunnies hopping around…

BUT, forgetting evaluations on my mental health… THANK YOU, so much, for all your love for this story – reviews, listing… (GLOMPS) Thank you! My life's been quite a stressfull thing lately (hence all the writing – I always type the most when I'm anxious). That's why your support means a lot. So thank you!

Allllright… Because I doubt you clicked on this chapter just to read my ramblings, let's get to the actual business. (takes a deep breath) I hope, I really do, that you'll have a good ride with this one!

* * *

Neverending Nightmares

* * *

Some kind of music was playing on the background while Spencer lay on a table, strapped from wrists and ankles. His heart was racing and vomit was rising rapidly into his throat but he held it down, desperate to not lose control over himself. Determined not to give his captor the pleasure of him breaking down.

He was blind or blindfolded. He couldn't see the person who made their way to him and stood for a second, observing, before speaking. The voice was muffled. "It's overwhelming, isn't it? To be stripped of all control like that." Someone leaned closer. He could feel a warm breath and cold steel. "It's such a pity that our game needs to end like this. Spending time with you has been exciting." The steel was pressed closer. "Feel free to scream. Scream all you like. No one will hear you."

Then the steel penetrated Spencer's skin and flesh. His mouth opened, at first unable to emit a thing. The steel was twisted, pressed even deeper. And at that very moment Spencer finally found his voice.

He screamed, at the top of his lungs. Screamed as his blood poured out in a seemingly endless flood. Screamed as the blood filled his lungs and stomach. Screamed even as a pair of unwanted lips became pressed against his. Screamed as his heart finally stopped beating.

"_It's time to wake up._"

Spencer's eyes flew open and he was stunned to realize that he could actually see. Then, very slowly, the line between illusions and reality cleared. He was able to distinguish David Rossi's worried face. A pair of hands pressed against his shoulders.

"Damnit, kid…!" How long had David been trying to wake him up? How hard had he fought back? The man was panting. "That was one hell of a nightmare. Are you alright?"

Spencer swallowed thickly, almost sure that he could taste blood, and looked around. He was in the police station's breakroom. He'd sat down and waited for the coffee to be ready. He must've fallen asleep. "I'm fine", he managed, rubbing his face with one hand. His hand trembled while adrenaline faded away slowly. He refocused on David and felt his insides twist with discomfort. "I'm… sorry. I didn't meant to…" He couldn't finish for he wasn't sure what he wanted to say.

David simply nodded with a inaudible sigh. The man waited for a good moment before continuing. "I came here looking for you. Garcia just called. Gideon's been digging on this case but so far there's nothing solid with which we could link him to this. She's going to continue searching."

Spencer nodded, slowly becoming more aware. More in control over himself. "Okay."

David was looking at him with sharp, wondering eyes and he could actually feel how questions were building up. Fortunately they never got the chance to be voiced. For just then a young female officer who could've passed for JJ's little sister knocked hesitantly before entering. "Agent Rossi? There's someone who wants to see you."

The older man nodded, then focused on him. "Reid… If there's something bothering you, you can tell me anything. Don't forget that."

Spencer nodded feebly. If only this would've been something he could've gotten off his chest with just sharing… "Thanks." He tried to offer a smile but had a feeling that he failed miserably. "You should go. I'll wake myself up with some coffee."

The last thing David wanted to do was leave Spencer when the man was so clearly shaken but he comforted himself with the thought that he could talk to the man later. So, with a heavy heart and troubled thoughts, he followed the female officer. What he found made him blink twice with surprise.

There, leaning against the wall nearby the exit, was Erik. The partner of their UnSub's first victim Charles Stewart. Erik spoke before he could even open his mouth. The man's eyes were sharp upon meeting his. Pure steel. "I heard you talking with your colleagues. The glass isn't exactly soundproof."

David sighed, feeling a wave of guilt. "I'm sorry if I sounded insensitive. I…"

Erik shook his head and gulped loudly. It took a mighty while before the words came. "Charles… He's developed a pneumonia. The doctors don't think that he's got long. So… Whatever you want to do… You need to do it quickly." Erik's eyes shimmered but tears wouldn't fall. "If… If waking Charles up for a moment is the only way… Then I want you to do it."

David frowned, his heart forgetting a beat. "Are you sure?"

Erik nodded. "I'll do whatever it takes to get him justice. His doctor isn't happy but I didn't leave much of a choice. The level of sedation is already being lowered. We need to get to the hospital."

* * *

The ride to the hospital was tense and quiet with both David and Erik deep in thought. When they made their way into Charles' room a nurse with shortcut blonde hair and pale brown eyes was already there. 'Kathleen', according to her nametag. The woman didn't appear pleased with the situation. "The doctor wasn't happy about it but lowered the dosage of sedatives. At the moment Charles is under a lot of pain medication which hopefully makes this whole insanity at least physically tolerable."

Erik's eyes were hard and unreadable as the man made his way to his usual seat right beside the hospital bed. "Thank you, Kathleen." It was icy and clipped. Carried a load of finality.

The nurse's stormy eyes found David's. "I hope that you understand how poor Charles' health is right now. His injuries, medication and fever all combined will highly likely make this all futile. So I truly hope that you know what you're doing. Charles doesn't deserve any more strain." With that she left. Almost as soon as she did Charles began to wake up.

David didn't dare to move a muscle, barely dared to breathe, as he watched how Charles frowned and emitted a incomprehensible sound, shifting slightly. A sheen of sweat made the discomfort loud and clear. Charles had been pumped so full of pain medication that he couldn't possibly be in agony. It must've been the nightmares, then. David didn't have the slightest clue of how to reveal the man that the nightmare was very much his reality.

As it turned out he didn't have to. Erik took Charles' hand and held on tight, his expression a stony mask of tightly restrained emotions. The hold was much too tight. "_Liebling_, I need you to open your eyes for me. Can you… Can you do that? Let me see your eyes."

It seemed to take a tiny eternity. But then, very slowly, David saw this tiny flash of blue. At first Charles frowned, obviously less than half awake, and fixed a confused look towards Erik. The man tried to speak but could barely even fog up the oxygen mask.

David swallowed thickly, feeling like he'd been intruding, then took a step forward. "Charles." He went on two seconds after getting the man's attention, taking his time to find the most harmless words. "I'm agent David Rossi, FBI. I came to ask you a couple of questions concerning your… attack. Can you answer them?"

For a moment unimaginable terror flashed in Charles' suddenly wide, oddly glassy eyes. The man moved restlessly, as though trying to escape from something. It looked like he'd been reliving one of those horror stories spinning around in his head.

With his free hand Erik stroked Charles' hair and fever ridden, sweaty forehead. "You don't have to do this if you don't feel up to it", the man murmured, so quietly that David barely heard. "But… You deserve justice, just like the other victims. And this may be the only way to get it." The taller man gulped. "Don't worry, I'll be here. I'll be right here."

For a couple of seconds Charles remained in his daze, trapped by something only meant for his eyes. The grip on Erik's hand was suddenly ten times harder than before. And then, surprising all three of them, there was a faint nod.

David took a deep breath, wondering if he was a sadist to do this to someone who'd already been through so much. He could only pray that he wouldn't cause even more damage. "Do you remember the attack?"

Charles nodded, this time a lot more firmly. It was a surprise, actually. Considering the extend of head injury reported the man shouldn't have been able to remember even his own name.

Once again David nodded. It seemed to be the only thing he could do for the younger man. "I read a report from your co-worker that day. I've understood that you had to leave early because you weren't feeling well. You were attacked while walking home." A firm shake of a head. He frowned. "Were you… offered a ride, then?"

The nod was so frantic that without all the medication it would've made Charles whimper from pain. The man squeezed his eyes tightly shut. The frail body was shaking under the thunder of emotions.

There was a dark expression on Erik's face. "This… This doesn't make sense", the tall man pointed out, sounding like he'd been speaking to himself. "Charles knows his bar's client type well enough not to trust them. Accepting a ride from a stranger… It just doesn't sound like him."

A shudder went through David. A whisper of something that was about to dawn. He was just about to get his finger on it when the room's door opened. It was chief Leah Morris, who didn't appear impressed. "Agent Rossi, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

David gritted his teeth. _Damnit…!_ "I'm trying to find out what happened on that day. And this may be the only way to do it."

Chief Morris' eyebrow bounced up. "Judging by the looks of it you're doing hell a lot more damage than good."

It was at that very moment David realized that Charles was staring almost directly towards where the chief stood. Those eyes, no matter how glazed over and confused they still were, had found a new spark of awareness. Charles was breathing erratically, on the verge of hyperventilating. David frowned. That look… It was much different from the fear before. Deeper. Far more vivid. He could feel it in every bit of his being. Charles was scared out of his mind and no amount of consolation from Erik soothed it. What triggered it?

"Agent Rossi." Chief Morris' eyes were colder than ice. "I came here because agent Hotchner couldn't reach you. My men just found the man Erik described. He's already at the station."

David took a breath, giving Charles and Erik a one more look. He hated leaving like this, abandoning those two into the horror story he'd just brought back to life. But in all blunt honesty he didn't have much of a choice. Before leaving he spoke once more, hoping from the bottom of his heart that the couple of heard. "We'll catch him. I swear. We'll catch him. There'll be justice. I promise." Neither of the two reacted. Feeling utterly defeated and sick to his stomach David followed chief Morris out of the room, unable to shake the feeling that he was missing something.

* * *

Twenty minutes after David's departure, after a doctor had sedated Charles once more and the man was resting more or less soundly, Erik gathered himself enough to think somewhat clearly. Little as he wanted to leave his partner's side for even a second there was something he needed to do.

He found a spot from the building where it was safe to use his cell phone. After making sure that he was alone he dialed numbers. It took several rings before his call was accepted. "It's Erik. I've been thinking about your offer." Erik gritted his teeth so hard that it hurt while flashes of Charles' half dead body filled his mind. His eyes stung hellishly as he went on. "If… If I tell you everything that I've told them… Do you promise to find that son of a bitch before they do?"

There wasn't even a breath of hesitation. "_Yes._"

* * *

Back at the station Derek glanced briefly towards Aaron who'd just finished a phone call. "Dave's going to be here in fifteen minutes."

Derek frowned, folding his arms. "What was he doing, anyway?" It wasn't like David to just vanish like this.

Aaron's expression spoke louder than words. "Something stupid. But he also said that he has a feeling that he's about to figure out something."

Derek snorted, refocusing on the sight before them. "Well, I sure hope so. Because we're not getting anywhere with this guy."

'This guy' was Blaine Hummel, age thirty-six. A rather miserable looking man with greasy brown hair and eyes of that same color which were clouded by lack of sleep and too long without drugs in his system. This man had been a well respected doctor before drugs swallowed him up, which was why he managed to help Charles. As for the rest… They didn't have any idea. So far Emily had been in the interrogation room with Blaine for half an hour and hadn't been able to crack a thing. Usually that amount of time would've been nothing but the nature of this particular case made Derek even more impatient than usual.

His inner seething was cut short when beside him Spencer shivered all of a sudden. "I'll be back in a bit." The genius walked off before a word could be said. After receiving a nod of agreement from Aaron Derek followed.

In the hallway Spencer was leaning against the wall, rubbing his face with both hands. The man… was shaking. And swaying. "I'm sorry that I walked out like that, but… Blaine, when I look at him he reminds me of…"

Derek nodded, his expression grim. A shiver crossed his body. "… of you." If only he'd been there for Spencer, back then. Maybe then the shadows wouldn't be this long.

Spencer nodded, finally meeting his eyes. "I know that it's the last thing I should be worked up by right now, but… I just can't help thinking that it could be me. That I could be in his situation. All alone, sick, having lost everything."

Derek sighed, feeling slightly nauseous. He reached out a hand and squeezed Spencer's shoulder. "But you're not there. Because you're much stronger than that guy."

That, at least, managed to pull a tiny smile from the genius. The man then sighed, appearing even more exhausted than before. "I just wish that we'd get this case over with. It's bringing out too many ghosts of the past."

Derek cast a knowing look towards the younger man. "Still not a trace of Gideon?"

Spencer shook his head. "Garcia's been digging as much as she's had time to but he's wiped away all traces completely. As far as she can tell a person called Jason Gideon doesn't even exist anymore." Out of the blue the man groaned quietly, his expression moulding into that of pure agony. A headache. "I need coffee."

Derek growled. "You need _sleep_, Reid. You've slept for, what, half an hour in total in days. And to be honest you're starting to look like a zombie."

Spencer frowned. "I can't rest now! The case…!"

"… doesn't need a half dead agent working on it. Trust me, kid. You'll feel much better once you've slept a little bit." Seeing the oncoming protest he went on. "And yes, Hotch has noticed. And agrees. This case is a lot more taxing on you than the rest of us. So go, and rest. We'll all feel better when you're sleeping safely in a hotel room."

Spencer growled. It was a proof of his mental condition that he gave up. "Fine. But you'll have to call me if I'm needed here, okay?"

Derek nodded. "Sure, sure." The hell they'd call. Just then he noticed a police officer who couldn't be past his mid-twenties with sharp green eyes and shortcut, almost black hair. "Hey, officer! Can I ask you a favor?"

The man, officer Sebastian Sykes, made his way to them with a small smile. "Of course. What can I do for you?"

At least one person who didn't think that they were intruding or simply a nuisance. Derek's shoulders eased. "Could you give Reid a ride to our hotel? He needs rest."

Officer Sykes nodded. "Sure. My shift was just about to end, anyway." The man gestured for Spencer to follow. "Come on. I'll give you some water on our way out. You look ready to pass out."

Just before leaving Spencer looked towards him once more. The smile didn't quite reach the man's eyes but it was a start. "I'll see you later, Morgan."

Derek nodded, unsure of why there was a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Yeah, kid. Take care of yourself."

As soon as Spencer had been escorted away safely Derek returned to the observation room, his attention fully on the interrogation. Emily's eyes were sharper than before. "_Mr. Hummel. I'm sure that you understand the situation you're in right now. If you don't tell us what you were doing there on that day we'll have to draw our own conclusions._"

Blaine was fidgeting on his seat. There was a look of despair on the man's face. "_For the last time, I – can't – tell – you. I just happened to be there. I tried to help. Why the hell isn't that enough?!_"

Emily was unfazed. "_Because it's not the full truth._"

Blaine glared at her for several moments, his whole body shaking from withdrawal, fear and anger. And then the words dropped out through tightly gritted teeth. "_You want the full truth? Fine. I'll give you the fucking truth. But you won't believe me._" The man leaned forward, running a trembling hand through his hair. "_Before… Before I got there, or before that guy's partner got there… I saw someone running away. I'm willing to bet a lot of money that it was the attacker._"

Emily's eyes flashed like those of a predator that was about to catch the pray. Her gaze flickered briefly on the glass separating them. They were finally getting somewhere. "_Do you have a description?_"

Blaine gave a mirthless, choked snort. "_Yeah, I've got a description alright. You wanna know why I've never shared this with anyone? Because back then I was as high as a kite. And the guy I saw running away was a cop._"

* * *

Spencer was restless, annoyed, tense, angry and frustrated as he sat in officer Sykes' car. He was furious with himself for being unable to keep himself together. He _hated_ being in a position where people had to send him away 'for his own protection'. (It reminded him far too much of how he'd, once upon a time, sent his own mother into a psychiatric hospital.) And he especially detested knowing that there was a threat coming towards him when all he could do was wait and think.

Think he did, trying not to feel bad for dismissing the officer driving him so completely. The puzzle pieces were moving in his head once more, trying to form a picture. He frowned, his head spinning and aching.

How the hell did the killer get those men to come with him so easily? Why did they trust him? And suddenly a flash of fingerprints filled his line of vision. Spencer gagged dryly, the world spinning before his very eyes. All of a sudden the picture was right there.

"Dr. Reid?" Sykes' voice sounded static in his ears. Perhaps it was connected to the fact that Spencer was seeing double. "Are you alright?"

Spencer swallowed, desperately trying to sort out his head and failing. "It's… It's a cop…", he managed with effort. That's why they trusted. That's how he got them to come along.

Sykes nodded. Of that he was sure although his head was melting and faltering. "I know." All of a sudden the car's doors became locked. "I believe that you're smart enough not to jump out of a moving vehicle but taking precautions is for the best. I'm sure you understand." The man focused on the road. "I'm sorry about the drug in your water but it was necessary to guarantee your cooperation."

Spencer swallowed thickly, his head speeding a million miles per hour although it was getting dangerously cloudy. He knew that he should've been terrified. That he should've been trying to fight his way out of this situation. But as it was he could barely move a muscle.

In the end, on the very edge of falling into a sea of darkness, he did the only thing his shutting down head could come up with. He reached down his fingers, slowly and subtly, towards where his cell phone had slipped at some point. 'Aaron Hotchner' was the first name on his list. He pressed 'dial'.

* * *

In the frantic buzz that took over Aaron barely registered that his cell phone was ringing. He frowned upon noticing who the caller was. "Reid? What…?"

He heard Spencer's voice alright. But it wasn't speaking to him. "_… you doing this?_" The doctor sounded slurred, which alone made Aaron's stomach twist. What the hell was going on?

"_My reasons aren't your concern, Spencer._" That voice sent chills down his spine, no matter how smooth it was."_Right now… If I were you, I'd just worry about you._"

With his head still in a chaos Aaron could barely think clearly. After a couple of breaths he took a piece of paper and wrote as fast as he possibly could, then showed the note to Derek, who was standing nearby with a frown of worry and confusion. The man's eyes widened dramatically as the words crashed in.

'_TELL GARCIA TO TRACE THIS CALL IMMEDIATELY_'

Aaron barely registered how Derek dashed into motion. All he could focus on was the chilling, odd conversation. He listened, his heart hammering out of all control.

"_Sykes… Whoever you've taken me as a substitute for… I'm not enough to satisfy the need._" The words were nearly impossible to understand. But it was still a confirmation. A very certain identification. "_The police… And the FBI… They'll come after you. Let… Let me go. Let me help. Let me…_"

"_Shh… The drug's already working, do you see? Just relax and let go. Let it wash over you. This will all be much easier and far more painless if you let go._"

Spencer emitted a unidentifiable sound, clearly not having the slightest intention of giving in just yet. "_'re are you 'king me?_" The genius sounded half asleep, no matter how hard he'd fought. It was only a matter of time…

"_To hell._"

Aaron waited, waited, and waited, his heart and blood frozen. Waited and listened, to a point where his muscles spasmed from tension. All he heard was the car humming. Spencer didn't make another sound, nor did Sykes. And then, so suddenly that he shivered, the music began to play.

Mozart's 'Requiem'.

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: Ooooh, crap… (winces) Okay, Morgan's so never going to forgive himself for this one. Let's hope that Reid makes it through this one alive and in one pieces. (sighs)

PLEASE, do leave a note! Let me know if this chapter was any good, at all. Pwease…? I might be able to ship out some cyber cookies as a 'thank you'…

Until next time, my friends! I really hope that you'll all join in for that bit.

Take care!

* * *

**Lilly**: Awww, I'm really happy to hear that you've enjoyed the pretty chilly ride thus far. (grins from ear to ear) I REALLY hope that you'll be as happy with the next one!

Colossal thank yous for the review!


	5. The Creation of a Monster

A/N: Yup. The new chapter's very much done. (grins) And in fact I've got the entire rest of the story in my head. Cool?

First, of course! Thank you, so much, for those fantastic reviews! (HUUUUGS) They're really precious to me, ya know? Knowing that you're out there makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. So thank you!

I guess I should go on with the story, huh? (gulps slightly nervously) I really hope that you'll enjoy the ride!

* * *

The Creation of a Monster

* * *

The police station was in a state of chaos. While half of the people working there still refused to believe that one of them could be the sick, twisted soul they were after the rest fought furiously to pull the hidden side of Sebastian Sykes to light. They were running out of time. Sebastian had taken a new victim, from right underneath their noses.

A victim.

Had there been anything in his stomach to vomit Derek would've thrown up. Tears of rage and frustration shone in his eyes. His fists balled, itching to smash something.

This was his fault. All his fucking fault. He was the one who sent Spencer away from where the genius would've been safe. He was the one who actually handed Spencer over to Sebastian, without a care in the world.

/ _"Even if he'd for some reason choose you… We're not going to let him find you, Reid. I swear."_ /

Derek's eyes were haunted as they examined the creation Spencer put together only a little bit before his abduction. Black. Red. Loose leads that wouldn't fit together. Or well, they were starting to slip together now that it was much too late.

Derek shivered when the room's door was thrown open with a lot more force than would've been necessary. In came Aaron with a stormy look on his face, followed close by the rest of the team that looked just as grave. "Please tell us that you found something", Emily pleaded.

Oh, if only… "Garcia tracked Reid's cell phone", Derek announced immediately, the words to come tasting bitter on his tongue. "I went there with chief Morris. All we found was a abandoned car. No signs of a struggle."

David sighed. "No wonder. He was probably drugged."

Emily joined in, rubbing the bridge of her nose. It was no wonder that she had a headache. "There was a lot of sick stuff in Sykes' apartment and hell of a lot of pictures of Reid. But no clues of where he might be."

Derek growled. So basically they were back to square one? No one was surprised or commented when he kicked the nearest desk as hard as he possibly could.

They were all on the edge. That's why they shuddered when Derek's cell phone started ringing. It was Penelope. "_Have you guys found anything?_" was her opening line. Her voice was huskier than usual.

Derek sighed, his shoulders slumping with shame and defeat. "I'm sorry, baby girl. But we're still looking. What about you?"

"_I… I found something. Could you put me on a speaker phone?_" He was barely fast enough to press the button before she was talking. "_Sykes' past is pretty horrific. Until he turned seventeen Sykes' name was James Grey. That was around when the police found him in Seattle from the basement of a pedophile called Paul Mason. Mason had him for over ten years. He was the only victim who didn't end up killed._"

JJ's eyes widened. Emily looked ready to throw up. Aaron and David shivered.

Derek himself had absolutely no idea of which sensation inside him was stronger. "Fuck…!" was all he managed to squeeze out.

Penelope needed a long moment to compose herself before she managed to continue. "_Sykes… He never spoke of what happened during his captivity. He was angry for being taken away from the man and self destructive. In the end his mother had to institutionalize him for a year. During that time he showed 'a promising amount of improvement'. Clearly his psychiatrist had no idea of what she was doing. Since getting discharged Sykes moved, so that he lived close to Mason's prison. He visited that monster every single week and stayed for hours every time._"

David's eyes darkened. "It was his idea of a relationship."

"_It sure looks that way_", Penelope confirmed. She sounded shaken. "_He even wrote hundrets of love letters, signing them as 'J.G'._"

"What happened to Mason?" Aaron demanded.

"_I was just getting there, because you guys really need to know this._" She sounded more composed, but only slightly. "_About three and a half months ago Mason was stabbed to death in the prison's shower room._"

Cold filled the room as they all understood. The puzzle pieces crashed together with violent force. "That's what triggered him", Derek breathed out. That's what started this whole nightmare.

"_Yeah, and that's not all._" They heard Penelope gulp. "_I just sent you a picture of Paul Mason. You're not gonna believe it._"

Derek's chest felt painfully tight. He swallowed loudly. "Thanks, baby girl." With that he hung up to be able to give the picture a look.

All their attention was fixed on his cell phone. In a couple of seconds the picture was right there, before their eyes. What he discovered knocked all air from Derek's lungs.

Paul Mason looked like the perfect older replica of Spencer Reid.

* * *

Spencer woke up to a massive headache. The experience in itself was far from new to him but the drug that wasn't completely out of his system yet intensified the discomfort tenfold. He groaned, twisting his wrists. Metal trapped them firmly.

Handcuffs.

"Open your eyes for me", Sebastian Sykes' voice whispered, sending his skin crawling. The man went on at the sight of his eyelashes fluttering. "Good, good. Just a little bit further."

It took hell a lot of effort but eventually Spencer's heavy eyelids were halfway open. Through some blur he found Sebastian. The man wasn't wearing his uniform anymore.

Meeting his eyes Sebastian gave a grin that revealed teeth. "Hi there. I was beginning to wonder when you'd join me."

Spencer swallowed, trying to get rid of the horrible taste in his mouth. It didn't go anywhere. "How… long was I out?" he mumbled. Still halfway out of it his tongue felt too thick into his mouth. Time seemed to be an important thing although he couldn't quite process why.

"Long enough." He looked on, perfectly calmly, as Sebastian revealed a rather large hammer that had a atypically sharp head. Only Sebastian's eyes betrayed emotions while the man moved smoothly, taking a stool and sitting so close that he could nearly feel the serial killer's warmth. They were eye to eye when Sebastian spoke next. "Now, Spencer… You've seen what I've done to my previous visitors. You know what's ahead of you."

Spencer licked his lips, his head still fuzzy and slightly unfocused. "Sebastian… The kills so far, they haven't satisfied your hunger. Killing me… It isn't going to make you feel any better. It won't fix you."

Sebastian appeared genuinely curious. One of the man's eyebrows arched. "Then do tell me. What would help me? What could you possibly do to fix me?"

Spencer felt a tiny shiver that faded away as quickly as it came. He held the other man's eyes, withstood those piecing pools. "You've never been able to understand yourself. The craving. I can help you with that. I can tell you how you turned out to be the person you are now. I can help you figure out why you're doing this."

For a while Sebastian stared at him, visibly contemplating his words. Then, so suddenly that he blinked, the moment of weakness was over. "That's a very tempting offer, Dr. Reid. I may end up accepting it later. But right now… we'll have some fun together."

The second the hammer rose Spencer knew that he was in a very, very deep trouble. With the drug still messing with his head he prepared himself, anticipated the attack. It was swift and experienced.

Spencer's lips opened when the hammer went down, again and again, most likely shattering his knee. It was with the strike to his other knee Spencer finally lost it. His barely human howl of pain echoed in his aching skull, taunting him.

In the sea of agony he barely heard Sebastian. "You're never going to walk out on me, Spencer."

* * *

The more time passed the more agitated Derek became. In was only a matter of time before he'd snap. That finally happened when he ended up to a breakroom for a cup of coffee at the same time with a young, bulky officer whose name he didn't care to find out. They eyed on each other frostily for a while until the other man hissed, sharp pale brown eyes narrowing. "I really hope that you're satisfied with yourselves. When your team couldn't come up with anything you decided to blame this on one of us."

Derek's own eyes flashed. His muscles tensed to a painful extend. "Hey! It's not our fault that you were too blind to see what's right in front of you."

The officer snorted. "And I heard that _you_ were the one who let Sykes get away with one of your own, who fit the victimology perfectly. What sort of a profiler are you?"

At those words Derek lost it. Before he even realized what was happening his fist was rammed to the other's jaw with a sickening force. For several seconds he merely stood still, breathing heavily under the aftershock of the impact. And then he became aware of the eyes on him. Turning his head he saw Aaron stood by the room's doorway with a gloomy, unreadable expression. The officer left, hissing a threat of some sort, just as the unit chief walked in.

"Morgan." Aaron's voice was firm, boomed on the walls. The man's eyes were no less hazardous. "Take a break. Ten minutes. Right now."

Derek's eyes narrowed. "Didn't you hear that bastard, Hotch! He…!"

Aaron gritted his teeth loudly. "Yes, I did, and I'm going to have a talk with him. But right now I need you to take a break before you destroy our every chance of having any cooperation with the local police." The man went on when he didn't make a move. "That was an order, Morgan."

Derek held both of his hands up, finally moving. His heart and eyes were blazing. "Fine! If you choose them over your own team, fine!" He knew that he was out of line and that he'd be sorry later but somehow it didn't matter at the moment. "But if they end up causing harm on Reid I'll never, ever forgive you." With those words he stormed off, not even noticing all the looks he got on his way out.

Once out of the building he leaned against the wall, inhaling long, wheezing breaths. His eyes narrowed against a invisible irritation. He heart was hammering painfully.

Those guys… They didn't give a damn about Reid. One of their own had been killed, along with several others, and another one of their own was the murderer. They were angry, in a shock and eager to bring an end to all this. They _would_ make mistakes, such that might endanger Spencer even further. How could Aaron not see that?

Derek's outraged trail of thought became cut when his cell phone demanded his attention. Unfamiliar number. He picked up even though all his instincts screamed against it. "Derek Morgan."

"_He took Reid, didn't he?_" It was years from the last time Derek heard Jason Gideon's voice. Nonetheless he recognized it instantly.

Derek's eyes widened and his heartbeat sprung out of control. He didn't know what to say. What the hell was one supposed to utter in a situation like this? "How would you know?" was the line that crawled out in the end.

"_I was following Sykes' car but he noticed me and lost me. He's abandoned the car since. Am I correct?_"

Derek's jawline tightened. Somehow saying 'yes' felt unnecessary. His eyes darted around, unable to spot anyone. So why did he feel like he was watched? "Reid told us about your… meeting. Why are you digging through this case? You're not a FBI-agent anymore."

"_Reid's time is running out and you're wasting time on interrogating me?_"

Derek took a breath, battling with himself. The profiler side of him screamed that something was very, very wrong. The part that wanted to get his best friend home alive and well was much stronger. "Do you think you can help us?" His voice was tight and loaded.

"_Yes. But you all need to stay out of my way. Let me do what needs to be done._" Even through the phone Jason's voice sounded dangerous. This wasn't the man he once worked with. "_He's already killed too many. I'm going to stop him before I'll lose Reid, too._" With those words the phone call ended just as quickly as it began.

For the longest time Derek stood still, staring at nothing in shock and confusion. What the hell was going on? What was Jason doing?

"Are you okay?" JJ's soft voice startled him. Turning around he found her standing only a couple of steps away. She looked exactly the way he felt.

For a moment Derek thought about telling her everything of the phone call he'd just had. He should've done so, really. Instead he nodded. "I'm fine. Just sick and tired of us running around in circles."

It was JJ's turn to nod. They stood in a heavy silence for the longest time until she spoke in a quiet voice he barely heard. "Look… I know that you blame yourself, just like I blamed myself for splitting up with him, back then. But you need to let that feeling go, for his sake. He needs your head to be fully in this."

Derek swallowed, choosing not to answer her. Those words didn't provide him a hint of comfort. After several moments he finally opened his mouth. "JJ… How far would you be willing to go to get him back?"

JJ gave him a look of stun, worry and confusion. She took her time before responding cautiously. "What do you mean?"

Derek felt his facial muscles tighten. "During the anthrax scare… I know that you called Will. He didn't pick up but you still did. I overheard Hotch questioning you about it." He examined her stiff, anxious posture for a while. "Would you be willing to break the rules again to save Reid's life?"

She looked back at him, unwavering. And suddenly he was seeing a side of her that'd never showed itself before. She nodded.

* * *

Spencer passed out at some point. He woke up to a world of immense pain. No matter how hard he tried to stop it a whimper broke through his lips.

He sensed Sebastian's presence long before the man spoke. "Now that you've felt what I'm capable of… Do you still want to save me? Are you still willing to help me?"

Spencer licked his lips, silently wishing that he'd been allowed even a single sip of water. He felt thirstier than ever in his life. His eyes opened after a long struggle. "Killing me… It isn't going to stop the nightmare you live in", he pointed out quietly, wishing that he would've sounded stronger. "I'm a member of the BAU. I'm… I'm a member of that family. And my mother… She's in a hospital and depends on me."

Sebastian glanced towards him, appearing mildly amused. "I appreciate the effort of trying to humanize yourself to me. But there's no need for you to tell any of those things. I already know everything about you. Including your mother's name and which hospital she's in. But while it's all interesting there's a meeting we need to attend to."

Spencer frowned, cold creeping through absolutely all of him, as he watched how the other man approached what looked suspiciously lot like a camera. A wire ran from the device to a open computer. The familiarity of the situation made Spencer feel sick to his stomach, struck him numb. "What… are you doing?"

Sebastian's eyes gained a chilling look. The man's motions were smoother than silk while he handled the equipment. "Usually I don't like to work in front of a audience. But you, Spencer… make a wonderful exception." A red light was blinking while Sebastian made his way back to him, another chilling grin on his face. "I hope you're ready, dear. We're about to give your team the show of their lives."

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: Hankel flashbacks, anyone? (shudders) The poor thing, and now the team's forced to watch whatever this sick psycho's come up with. (winces) This'll get real ugly.

PLEASE, leave a note! Let me know if this bit was satisfactory at all or if I should just delete this and look the other way. Your opinions mean A LOT to me, you know that right?

Awkay… I've really gotta get going now. (pouts) I really hope that I'll be seeing ya guys around!

Take care!


	6. Deal With the Devil

A/N: Heh, 'thought I wouldn't update today, didn't ya? Well, surprise! (grins) Yay?

First of, naturally! THANK YOU, with my whole heart, for your reviews and love! (glomps) You guys can't even imagine how precious you are. Don't ever underestimate your value!

Awkay, before I REALLY start babbling, let's get this thing rocking, yeah? (takes a deep breath) I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride!

* * *

Deal With the Devil

* * *

The clock on the wall was much, much too loud. Each second ticking by sounded like a small explosion. With each second the team was very, very aware of the fact that precious time was slipping away.

Spencer's time.

The fact that they knew who they were up against didn't help them the slightest. Sebastian Sykes had vanished, as though never having even walked amongst them. They'd gone through the man's apartment, everything he owned, and still there was nothing. Nothing but nauseating pictures and a collection of fingerprints that shattered even the last fragments of doubt.

They had nothing. And Spencer was gone. And time was running out.

Aaron sighed, putting away his cell phone. He didn't look towards Derek who was going through some documents right beside him. "That was the hospital. Charles Stewart passed away fifteen minutes ago."

Derek shuddered like someone had harmed the man physically. It took a while before the words came. "Hotch… We _will_ find Reid before it's too late."

Aaron remained frozen for a while, staring at the mountain of papers before him. And realized that he was too exhausted and strained to lie. "I hope so." Those words made him feel sick.

Derek's eyes were steel, fire and venom when they bore right into his. "Reid… He's there, in that psycho's hands. And that's all?"

Aaron gritted his teeth to a painful extend. Sometimes his team really tested his patience. "It's all that I _can_ say right now. Do you think that _I _don't want to find him? That I don't spend every second wondering if we're already too late?"

"Well…" Derek's chuckle held no humor. It sounded wet and unsteady, closer to a sob than anything else. The man refused to meet his eyes. "At least you're not the one who sent him away with a serial killer who'd been waiting for a chance."

Aaron didn't have the slightest clue of what to say. And in the end he didn't have the time to speak out a word, for just then a female officer who looked strikingly lot like JJ barged into the room, her eyes wide. "You've gotta get in here, right now! Sykes' computer… It just opened up. He must be using it somehow."

Without a second of hesitation the two of them were running. By the time they made it to Sykes' computer the others were already there. Emily (who was already on the phone with Penelope) appeared wide eyed and slightly nauseous. David's expression was tight with bottled up surges. JJ's eyes shimmered suspiciously. Derek swore as soon as the man's eyes fell on what the others were staring at. "That fucking asshole…!"

Aaron, on the other hand, couldn't react. Outwardly at least. Shock numbed his whole body and mind.

On the screen live footage of Sebastian played. The man wasn't alone. There, right before their eyes and very far away, was Spencer. Once again restrained to a chair, under the mercy of a psychopath.

* * *

On the other side of the footage Spencer's whole body twitched with discomfort while Sebastian approached him. "They don't have to see this", he whispered, twisting his wrists in a desperate attempt to get them free.

Sebastian's expression didn't change. "Oh, but yes they do. In fact, it's important that they join us right now." All of a sudden the man revealed a needle. "But let's prepare you, first. To make this more fun."

Spencer's whole body turned impossibly cold as he realized what was going to happen. He struggled, trying to spot anything that would've helped him, only slam right into nothing. _No, no, no, not again…!_ Especially not in front of his team! "Please…! Don't…" But it was already much too late. All he managed to deliver was a gasp when the drug was in his bloodstream. Whatever it was it kicked in fast.

Spencer's mind was sluggish but he was still able to feel fear. Able to realize that something was very, very badly wrong with the whole situation. He frowned and groaned, unable to squeeze out words.

Sebastian seemed to understand. There was a slight, treacherous smile on the man's face. "Don't worry, I only gave you something that'll help you… get a new insight to this experience." Something that looked suspiciously lot like metal shone in the room's dim light. (Or was it only dim inside his head?) "Now… Be a good boy and help me show your team exactly what they're up against."

At first he didn't realize what was happening. Sebastian was working behind him, which unnerved him even in his current incoherent state of mind. Something pressed against his fingers and his eyes widened while some sort of a vague realization dawned.

Fingerprints… The man was taking his fingerprints. Just like with all the other victims.

He could almost feel that smile. "I can't let you be any less special than the others, dear. After all, you're by far the most dangerous being I've ever held in captivity. But now… Let's start with the games."

The pain was so unexpected that Spencer gasped, his head spinning and black spots dancing in his line of vision. First there was the sensation of blood spilling. Then sheer, utter agony that ravished his whole body from his hand to his already smashed knees and to the tips of his toes. Unable to restrain himself he _screamed_.

With chilling ease two of his fingers had been removed. Without the slightest change in his expression the man held them up for the camera. "Do you see? More bits and pieces will fall as long as you keep chasing me. So stop, and I'll leave him alone. I'll go away. I'll disappear from your lives like a particularly nasty nightmare. This'll all be over." With those words the feed was cut, leaving the team haunted by the image of their youngest's agonized face and blood.

"You won't be able to stop." It took long before Spencer's pained mind realized that the murmured, barely audible words were coming from him. It was so very hard to keep his eyes open. "Even… after me… you won't stop. And they'll come. They… They'll stop you. On their terms. So please… For your own sake… Let me help you. Let me… show you… the life you can still have."

Sebastian stared at him for a second, as though a part of the man had been contemplating accepting the deal, then snorted. "A life I can still have? Are you honestly trying to convince me that I could live free?"

Spencer shook his head, feeling dangerously dizzy already. Somewhere in the back of his head a clock was ticking. If only he'd manage to buy time… "No. No freedom. But peace."

Sebastian sighed, something unreadable appearing into those eyes. "Don't you see it, Spencer? I already am at peace. I am perfectly comfortable with what I am. With who I am. With what I've done. I'm even comfortable with going to hell because that's inevitable. So what kind of a peace could you possibly offer me?"

Spencer was stunned that he managed to remain as lucid as he was. He met Sebastian's eyes. "I can set you free… from the monster whispering in your head."

At first Sebastian stared at him with eyes that made him fear that he'd crossed a line. But then, very slowly, the man revealed his arms. Long, deep scars, old and fresh. Needle marks that appeared all too familiar. "I've already tried everything there is to get him out of my head, Spencer. But everything I do – no matter how brutally I torture myself and kill– only makes him louder. So why the hell do you thin that _you'd_ be able to chase him away?"

Spencer swallowed, struggling to think through the fog of pain of the drug. He wished that he'd had more bits and pieces to use, more weapons to strike with. But as it was he just had to play by ear. Judging by the looks of it he was getting close. "When… they saved you… How did you feel?"

Sebastian seemed very guarded all of a sudden. Obviously his approach wasn't something the man had expected. But the temptation, the chance of relief, was too strong. The answer came almost cautiously, testing the ice. "I… don't know. I was embarrassed. Scared. Confused. For so long his reality was the only one I knew." The man's eyes became slightly distant. "They… They said that it was over. That I was safe. But… I didn't feel that way."

Spencer shivered and nodded, flashbacks making his skin crawl. Vomit rose into his throat and he shifted with discomfort. A huge mistake. The blow of pain made him bite back a whimper. "I know that feeling", he murmured. The time after Tobias Hankel was a much worse nightmare than those few days in the disturbed man's hands.

Sebastian probably didn't even hear him. "My parents… Even they didn't understand when I woke up in the middle of the night, screaming his name. Crying after him. I didn't understand it, either. Sometimes I still wake up calling out to him." The man folded his arms. "I loved him and hated him, from the bottom of my heart. I still do. Half of time I wish that I'd had the chance to kill him. The other half I wish that I'd died with him."

"You survived." Spencer's voice was soft. Pain, stress and that unknown drug were quickly pulling him into the dark. He fought desperately to keep himself alert and focused. "You… are much more than just his creation. You can choose to be more."

There was something sad in Sebastian's smile. "Freedom of choice is a sweet illusion, isn't it? But do tell me … After Tobias Hankel, did you ever become the same person you were before? Or a 'better person'?"

Spencer couldn't say anything to that. Mostly because it hurt so much that it took his all not to scream. What was he even supposed to say?

Sebastian nodded, reading the truth from his eyes. "Yes, I thought so." The man then moved to action. "Now let's take a look at those wounds of yours. I wouldn't want you to die before we're through."

* * *

That footage – seeing Spencer's blood and pain – was what it took for Derek to make up his mind. And so, careful not to let the others notice a thing, he began to formulate his plan, ignoring the part of him that screamed against it. Ignoring all rules.

When he cornered JJ in a break room, where she'd retreated immediately after the nauseating footage, and asked her to help him gather a copy of every single trail of clues thus far she didn't ask a thing. Didn't ask because she probably knew. She only nodded, her eyes harder than stone. Less than half an hour later she fulfilled Derek's request. Sending a text message took Derek less than two minutes, convincing Aaron that he needed some air even less. His feet led him to a almost abandoned park. Almost. There was a man sitting on a long bench, back towards him. Derek approached without hesitation.

Jason Gideon looked a lot older than the last time they met. A lot older, and tired. "I'm glad that I stayed nearby. I had a feeling that you might end up needing help."

Derek gulped, feeling extremely uncomfortable all of a sudden. He pushed the huge envelope towards Jason quickly, before he would've changed his mind. What the hell was he doing, anyway? What had he been thinking, getting JJ involved as well? Was he going mad? "This is everything we've found so far."

Jason nodded. "Thank you." It sounded sincere, at least.

Derek felt unsatisfied and it had nothing to do with the fact that he was most likely making a disastrous mistake. Breaking a million rules. "Do you promise to find him?" He didn't want this all to be in vain. He wanted to have Spencer back again, even if it'd cost him dearly.

There was something unreadable in Jason's eyes. Echoes of a shattered mind, perhaps. Not a trace left of the mentor he once relied on. This man was dangerous, there was no question about it. "Spencer is the only one left of those I've sworn to protect. So yes, I'm going to find him. I'll do whatever it takes to save him."

The older man had already gotten up until Derek called out. "Gideon." They looked at each other for the longest time, both clearly wondering. "If you find this guy before we do… What are you going to do to him?"

Jason's expression remained stony. Those haunted eyes would've chilled anyone to the bone. "I'm going to do all of those things you're wishing to do right now." With those words the man turned his back on him, beginning to walk away. "If you ever want to join this path, to look for real justice… You know how to find me." And then Jason was gone, like some sort of a creature that'd momentarily slipped to the reality from his nightmares.

Derek knew that he should've at least tried to stop Jason. That as a federal agent he should've attempted to stop the bloodshedding that was bound to happen. But as it was he remained rooted to the spot. And felt no remorse.

All he felt was cold, despite the heat of Alabama around him.

Derek chose the long way back to the station. He didn't feel like facing his team immediately, not after what he'd just done. He'd nearly passed by a electronics store until something on a TV-screen caught his attention. Made his heart still.

A male police officer whose name Derek didn't catch was talking to interviewer. There was a sharp look in the man's brown eyes. "_… was my colleague and best friend. I was the one who found his body after several days of torture. __Sebastian Sykes… He's a monster. __And now he's grabbed a new victim – a federal agent. He must be stopped before he kills again._"

"_And the local police is going to do that?_"

The officer nodded with a great deal of confidence. "_Even though he pretended to be one of us for a while Sykes underestimated us. We'll definitely catch him. We'll make sure that he'll never walk free again._"

For a moment Derek stared, his heart thumping close to his throat. '_More bits and pieces will fall as long as you keep chasing me. So stop, and I'll leave him alone_', Sykes said. And now…

_NO! No, no, no…!_

With that frantic stream of thought Derek was running like the devil itself had been chasing him. Hoping with his all that the damage hadn't been done yet.

* * *

Spencer was drifting somewhere between sleep and unconsciousness. He dreamt of his mom. Of Tobias. Of his father. Of his team. Of Gideon.

He came around to a sharp assault of pain.

Sebastian's eyes were very different from before. Outraged. Scared. Dangerous. Those of a threatened wild beast. "I gave them a promise. Remember? To leave you alone if they'd leave me alone. They didn't listen."

Spencer swallowed, barely able to keep himself from throwing up. A quick inspection revealed that the camera was once again on. He hoped, with all there was in him, that the team wouldn't be watching.

He didn't want them to see any more of this.

"They had a choice…", Sebastian hissed. He felt steel slide down his neck and held his breath to an extend where it hurt. "Clearly catching me is more important to them than finding you alive. What does that say about them?"

Spencer attempted to brace himself but no amount of time would've been enough. The blade rose, nibbled the skin right behind his ear. Then started cutting hungrily.

The pain was unimaginable, wiped away all of Spencer's reason. He screamed wildly and attempted to move his head away, only to realize that a firm hand was keeping him perfectly still. No amount of fighting chased the steel and the agony away.

"Don't worry", Sebastian whispered, the nearly purring voice barely registering to him through the state of shock he was falling into. "I'm sure that this hurts them much, much more than this could ever hurt you."

It seemed to last a lifetime but eventually Sebastian was done. Warm and sticky substance trickled down Spencer's neck and he wouldn't have needed to be a genius to know what it was. He didn't look towards Sebastian when the man revealed the cut off ear to the camera.

"There are rules to follow." Sebastian's voice was almost hollow. "I gave you the chance to save him. You didn't take it. Now he'll spend the rest of his life with me." The man moved, out of Spencer's line of vision. "I'm giving you this one more night with him before he dies. I'd suggest you say your goodbyes."

Spencer barely registered how the hole where his ear used to be was treated. His body was too far gone in a shock to notice the tidal wave of pain, or the discomfort from sitting cuffed for much too long. All he felt was cold, such that made him tremble and was most likely turning his lips blue. All he saw was the camera's red light.

Spencer gulped thickly, then whispered although he was almost sure that they wouldn't even hear him. "It's… It's alright." Maybe, if he said that many times enough, he'd be able to believe it. Tears stung his eyes but he refused to let them fall. "I… I know that you're trying to find me. Whatever happens, it'll be alright. It's alright." The pain intensified while Sebastian cleaned up his newest wound.

Spencer swallowed reflexively, trying to free himself of all physical sensations. The cold still remained. "It's alright."

As soon as the man was done Sebastian left without saying another word. The lights were switched off, leaving Spencer into complete darkness. He kept his eyes focused on the red light, no longer bothering to hold back the tears.

"It's alright."

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: (winces) I'm pretty sure that I whimpered, just a little bit, while that final bit came out. Poor, poor Reid! The team's seriously running out of time. (winces)

PLEASE, do leave a note! Let me hear ya out! I'll bake ya some cyber cookies if you do. (wink, wink)

Until next time, buddies! I truly hope that you'll all be joining in then.

Be good! (Seriously. Elves are hyper observant this year.)


	7. Against the Hands of Time

A/N: Time for another chapter, my friends! (grins) We'll see just what this one has in store. But first, of course…

THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for you absolutely amazing reviews! (beams, and huggles every single one of you) This story has seriously grown on me. It meanst the world to know that I'm not the only one who enjoyes it. (grins from ear to ear)

Awkay, because I don't think that you're here for my ranting… Let's hit it! I truly hope that the ride pleases you.

* * *

Against the Hands of Time

* * *

Through the long, agonizing hours of the night the team worked furiously, the sheer force of despair driving them. Worked, searched, fought. And in his own hell Spencer fought as well, with every ounce of strength there was left in him. The least they could do was to make sure that the genius wasn't alone.

The others didn't ask a question when Derek offered to keep an eye on the miserably dark footage. Derek was glad. He didn't think that he would've been able to deliver any explanations, anyway. And so he sat there, his eyes never once leaving the screen, listening to Spencer's quiet, exhausted voice.

"_He's… He's keeping me drugged. He's making sure… sure that I can't think clearly. __I just… __I want you to know that I'm not taking it willingly. I don't want it, I swear. I don't want any of it. Not even now._" The despair in Spencer's voice nearly broke Derek's heart. Even in that nightmarish situation the genius was worried that they'd think less of him because of a long ago won war.

Derek would've given anything – _anything_ – if he would've been able to offer words of comfort. If he would've had the chance to be there by Spencer's side. As it was he gulped loudly, keeping his eyes fixed on the screen. He could do that much, at least. He liked to think that Spencer knew that he was there, that the genius knew that they hadn't given up.

It took a while before Spencer went on and for a moment Derek feared that the doctor had passed out. Or perhaps that would've been more merciful, all things considered. "_I… __I tried to take a look around, before the lights were switched off. I think that this is a cellar of some sort. The walls… They're made of stone. So is the floor. This room… I can't explain it but it smells old. It's… It's cold. It shouldn't be this cold in Alabama. Or maybe I'm just in a shock._"

Derek could barely keep himself together. "We'll find you, kid. I promise", he whispered. "We'll get you out of there."

"_He's… I don't think that he's listening in on us because the camera's still on. At least I think it is. Or then he just doesn't care. __I… __I don't know._" That admission alone spoke volumes on just how tired Spencer was. The doctor's voice was even quieter than before. Derek struggled to hear as the speech went on. "_Arranging… Arranging something like this… It must've taken time. And he… He must've come here often. His car… It has a GPS system. If you haven't yet… Give it a look. Aside home and work… This is his favorite spot._"

Derek smiled, barely but still. "Already on it, pretty boy." All of a sudden walls of secrecy and bureaucracy were crashing down on them. The fact that Sykes had practically smashed the GPS system didn't make things any easier. But they were trying. Soon they'd have a report on all the locations Sykes had visited. He could only pray that Spencer would hang on until then.

The silence lasted unnervingly long until Spencer practically whispered. "_I… __I'm tired. Really tired. But… I've lost a lot of blood, and it's cold. I don't… I'm not sure if it's a good idea to go to sleep. I don't want to sleep._"

Derek sighed, not even noticing how his breath shuddered. "Rest, kid. Just rest. We'll figure out how to get you out of there. Just hang in there."

Once again Spencer was quiet for a long time. Derek wondered if man had heard his suggestion, somehow, until a barely audible voice spoke. "_If… If this doesn't end well… Make sure that my mom's looked after, okay? Make sure that she'll be alright. And… Tell Garcia that I want my mom to hear my voice. Make sure that she hears my voice, please._"

Derek's mouth opened but in the end no words came out. There was nothing but silence. He could've sworn that he saw Spencer's form slump in the dark, finally succumbing to the sheer exhaustion. For the longest time Derek stared at the sceen, his eyes stinging hellishly. Then, gathering himself with steely determination, moved. If Spencer's observations were correct they might finally be getting somewhere.

On the wall the clock kept ticking mercilessly.

* * *

Once again Spencer was floating. Dreams mixed with reality. One moment he was playing chess with Jason. The next the man was cutting his skin with a long knife. He was hiding in a closet with his hands pressed to his ears and tears streaming down his face, trying not to listen to his mother screaming at people who didn't even exist. He was with Hankel once more. Only this time the man buried him alive.

Spencer lay there in a cold hole – in his grave – screaming and fighting with all there was in him, dying slowly.

And then his eyes really, truly opened. There was no red light. The camera had been switched off. Sebastian Sykes was right there before him, the man's face a unreadable mask. "You have fever", the killer announced.

Spencer nodded slowly, despite the fact that his head swayed dangerously as he did so. "The wounds…", he mumbled. "They're infected."

Sebastian sighed. "I was hoping that it'd take longer for that to happen. But no matter. I'm afraid that our time is running short, anyway." The man straightened his form slightly, moving behind Spencer's back. "I hope that you managed to say goodbye to your team. The next time that camera goes on you won't get the chance to."

Fever, pain and terror were making a mess of Spencer's head. He couldn't think, couldn't focus. To him it was a mortifying experience. He took a breath, only to realize that it didn't fit into his lungs. "There's another way", he whispered. "You don't have to do this."

Slowly, slowly Sebastian stepped before him and leaned closer. Spencer's heart hammered as he wondered what was going to happen, how much pain would be waiting for him this time. As it turned out he didn't have to face any pain. Instead a pair of lips met his. Gently, savouring every stolen second. The unwanted moment alone was so bizarre that Spencer wondered if he was still dreaming.

Sebastian pulled away. The magic was gone. There was nothing he would've been able to read in the man's eyes. "Your lips… They're poison. And your words attempt to sway me from my fated path. I can't allow that." What the man pulled out made Spencer feel even colder than he had before.

It was a gag, definitely. With a twist. The whole lace and the ball had sharp, metallic spikes. As soon as it'd be placed into his mouth…

Spencer's eyes widened and he gasped faintly without managing to control himself. "Sebastian…! You don't have to do this, I promise. You don't have to…"

"Shhh…" The device came closer. "I'd suggest you to stay very, very still and quiet now."

Before Spencer could brace himself at all the gag was already in place. Some spikes piercing the skin of his cheeks, the most painful part forced right into his mouth. Spencer trashed, wanted desperately to scream, but he could barely move. The taste of blood filled his mouth while a couple of tears ran down his cheeks, stinging hellishly as they ran over wounds.

A dream. Just a dream. This was just a dream. He'd wake up soon. He'd have to.

Instead of waking up, though, he felt Sebastian's hand. "Now, Spencer… Be very, very quiet. Don't make this hurt any more than this needs to."

Spencer remained very, very still and tense while the man pulled out a knife once more. The same knife that was still covered in his blood. It ventured on his form, searching, enjoying the feel right before the strike. And then, suddenly, it paused. It wasn't until then Spencer realized that he'd fidgeted.

"Oh, here? This is where you want me to make the next mark? Very well."

Spencer swallowed, gulping down a rather large amount of blood as he did. Paying no attention to the expression on his face Sebastian began to work on his shirt, lifting it up until his chest and stomach were revealed. For a couple of moments the man stared, as though lost in a world of his own. In a ocean of memories. Then, before Spencer could even flinch, the knife began to work on the exact spot he'd apparently signalled with twitching.

It sunk deeper than Spencer had anticipated and he gasped as far as it was possible with the horrendous gag in his mouth. He twisted his wrists and ankles, desperately attempted to find any way to get away from the torment, but there was no relief. Tears of pain and frustration filled his eyes when the knife kept moving calmly, evenly, Sebastian's eyes never wavering from his delicate work.

It was amusing, really, that something like this affected Spencer so after parts of him having been cut off. He didn't have the slightest clue of how long it took – a year, perhaps. But in the end Sebastian seemed satisfied with his work. Almost sure that he was making a huge mistake Spencer allowed his head to drop slightly, just enough to be able to see what'd been engraved to his skin. Through a little bit of blur a single bloodied word greeted him.

_NO_

Sebastian smiled at him, appearing much calmer than before. "You will die, Spencer. As my greatest masterpiece."

* * *

Although she was only forty-five on the day Sebastian Sykes (or James Grey, as she'd always know him) was hospitalized at the age of seventeen his mother's, Jean Summers', bright red hair began to turn grey. Her fiery eyes lost their spark. She made a habit out of not showing herself to too many people.

A lot of people came to her with open arms and words of sympathy while her son was still missing, perhaps even presumed dead. It was much harder to find such sympathy when she had a raging, destructive and potentially dangerous teenager in her hands. All comfort disappeared when her son was first spotted killing one of their neighbor's dogs.

These days Jean rarely got good news whenever her doorbell rang. That's why her heart skipped a beat when the extremely rare sound met her ears. Her dog Rex – a very large male Rottweiler – was immediately alerted and growled. She calmed the canine down with a single hand sign, then made her way to the door although it was the last thing she wanted to do.

Behind the door stood a man whose age was impossible to guess with already slightly greyish dark hair and even darker eyes. Even when he offered her a smile there was something that chilled her in those eyes. "Hello, Mrs. Summers."

Jean frowned, instinctively taking a step backwards. "I'm sorry, but I'm not interested…"

The man shook his head. "I'm not here to sell anything, ma'am." The visitor showed her a badge. She couldn't tell if it was a fake or not even though she tried. "I'm agent Jason Gideon from the FBI. I came here to ask you some questions about your son."

Jean folded her arms but moved to let him enter anyhow. She never turned her back on him as he walked in and closed the door. "The police was already in. They asked everything possible. I can't imagine how you'd find something that they haven't figured out already."

Jason shrugged. "I'd like to try, if that's alright with you." Suddenly his expression became a lot more serious. "Mrs. Summers… I'm truly sorry for what you must've gone through. I've lost a son, so in a way I can understand. But you need to understand that your son is a very, very dangerous man. If we don't catch him now… there's no telling how many people he'll kill in the future. So please, help me stop him. So he can finally gain peace."

A huge part of Jean screamed that she shouldn't do this. That she was condemning her son. Handing him over to the devil. But the other part of her won. And so she told Jason everything, feeling no shame.

She told him of the little boy her son once was; happy, smiling, curious, loving. She told him of all those things they used to do together. She told him how she felt when he was gone – and when she finally got her son back. She even told Jason what it felt like to realize that the child who was once stolen from her had grown up to a teenager she couldn't even recognize. How furious, betrayed, sad and lost she felt upon understanding that she'd lost her son, after all. That the being handed back to her would never become the person she so very desperately wanted him to be.

"We… We fought so much, before I sent him to a hospital. Every day." There were tears in her eyes, on her cheeks. She didn't wipe them away. "He would always take off and come back hours later, out of breath and this… horrible look in his eyes. I followed him, once. He went to this old warehouse, right outside the city." She swallowed, tasting bile and betrayal. "He noticed me. You… You can't even imagine how angry he was. It was the first time he harmed me physically."

Jason's eyes were much sharper than before. She wasn't sure what to make of it. "Can you give me the address of that warehouse?"

Jean nodded cautiously, wondering just who she was dealing with. "Of course."

Less than two minutes later Jason was already leaving. She stopped him just before he was out. "Agent Gideon?" She shivered slightly, not quite knowing why. "Can you… Can you save my son?"

Jason looked at her, long and hard, before answering. "No. But I can save a lot of other people." He sighed, turning around and beginning to walk away. "I hope that one day you'll understand, even though you won't forgive me." The door was shut. She had no idea of which one of them closed it.

For a minute or so Jean stared at the door. Then, so suddenly that it scared her, she fell to the floor with her face buried into her hands. She'd never cried as hard as she did then.

* * *

The police station was uncomfortably hot and in the middle of a huge frenzy. Derek's head hurt while he stole a look towards his cell phone, mostly to have _something_ reasonable to do while they didn't seem to be getting anywhere. No calls from Jason or Penelope.

He'd never been a very patient person. But this… This was driving him mad.

Derek's trail of thought was cut when he saw a familiar figure, slumped to the pretty much most isolated spot in the entire station. David was sitting there, head bowed, eyes closed and fingers crossed so tightly that knuckles had turned white. Firmly focused on a prayer.

Derek approached with a hint of hesitation in his steps, one eyebrow arched. "Do you think that that's going to help?" he inquired, trying to keep doubt from his voice and failing.

David shrugged, appearing just as frustrated, lost and anxious as he felt. "It's the only thing that I can do right now. Besides… What's the harm?"

Derek couldn't say anything to that. His own faith had been tried too hard, too often. He couldn't steal the older man's hope.

They _needed_ to get Spencer back. If a prayer would do the trick…

They both jumped slightly when Derek's phone began to ring all of a sudden. It was Penelope. "Please, baby girl, tell me that you have good news."

"_I know where he is, Derek!_" She was screaming so loudly that it nearly blew up his eardrums. He didn't even notice the volume. "_The… The GPS-system… It wasn't completely trashed! I've got a possible location! There's this warehouse, right outside the city…_"

Derek was running before she could even finish properly, his heart racing and his mind begging, pleading, full of desperate hope. It took less than thirty seconds before he'd found the rest of the team. In five minutes they were all running, hoping with their all that they weren't too late already. That Spencer's time hadn't run out.

As the rest of the team rushed into action JJ stayed behind, unsure of what held her back. She turned towards the computer screen. What she discovered made her whole world tilt. Her legs went so weak that it was a miracle that she didn't fall down.

The basement's camera… It'd been switched on at some point. Spencer was right there before her, bloodied and barely conscious. Beside the genius stood Sebastian Sykes. The killer didn't speak, instead revealed a piece of text that made the bottom drop from her world.

'_I HOPE THAT YOU SAID YOUR GOODBYES. BECAUSE HIS TIME IS UP._'

* * *

Once again Spencer drifted in the confusing world of illusions, dreams and memories. He was with his mother. He was with his team. He relived every single one of his best and worst moments, only to find that they were tainted. Blurry. Things twisted around inside his head. It was impossible to tell what was real and what wasn't.

And then he woke up to a sensation of suffocating.

Struggling the best as he could while his eyes flew open Spencer attempted to breathe, tried to escape. Tried to do anything to relieve himself. To get rid of the hellish burning underneath his ribcage and inside his mouth.

Sebastian smiled down at him. There was a by then empty bucket in the man's hand. The water the man threw at him was ice cold. "I needed you to wake up. This little spectacle of ours is close to its finale."

Spencer's eyes widened while realization dawned. His whole body began to shake from much more than cold and fever. Once again there was no air in his lungs.

_No…!_

The camera was blinking once more. The look on Sebastian's face was such he'd never seen before. The man was dressed to nothing but a black bathrobe. "Now, Spencer, with our audience hopefully watching… Your time's up."

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: Uh huh, it sure looks like time's running out. How fast, exactly, can they get to Reid? (gulps)

Please, do let me know your thoughts! Was this a hit or did this flatline? I'd be insanely happy to hear from you.

As you may imagine, there's only a little bit of this story left. (cries) **Two more chapters and a epilogue to go, guys.** We'll see just what unfolds… Next time up, 'The Final Cut'.

Until next time! I REALLY hope that I'll be seeing each and every single one of you there.

Take care!


	8. The Final Cut

A/N: Oh wow…! Letting this chapter type itself out was definitely… something. (shudders) I'm a bit nervous but also curious to hear what you'll think of this one.

BUT, before getting there… THANK YOU, with all my heart, for your absolutely amazing reviews! (GLOMPS) I see that this lil' story has its very own group of friends. It feels better than you could ever imagine to know that you're out there. So thank you!

Awkay… Because I've got a feeling that you already want to know his this turns out let's get going. (gulps) I really hope that you'll have a good ride.

* * *

The Final Cut

* * *

With Spencer wide awake Sebastian sat slowly to a chair not far away, the man's eyes never leaving him. "I'd imagine that your team is already on the way here. How long would you guess that it takes before they get to us? Fifteen minutes? Twenty?"

Spencer gulped, swallowing a nauseating amount of blood. His only hope was that Sebastian had miscalculated. That the team would be fast enough. That they'd actually figured out where he was. Hell, that they'd come at all.

That he'd manage to hang on for long enough.

"They're a really fascinating little group, really. So much package, with all of them. I wonder how a group of so traumatized people was accepted to the academy in the first place." Sebastian tilted his head. "It'd be interesting to see how they'll react when you die. They'll never forgive themselves, I'm sure. They were the ones who handed you over to me."

Tears burned Spencer's eyes but he wouldn't let them spill. Struggled not to let Sebastian see them. He had to make it out of this hellhole alive. Had to tell them that…

"I upsetted you, didn't I? You don't like it when I talk about your team. That's understandable. Besides, I believe that the time of talking has come to an end." With those words Sebastian got up, dropping the bathrobe as he did. The man's scar littered body shivered with excitement and adrenaline. "It's time to bring this to an end."

* * *

Outside the police station the team – minus JJ who'd stayed behind to keep an eye on the live footage broadcasted from Spencer's very own hell – was finishing the attack plans when the realization that someone was missing dawned. During the whole commotion one of them had managed to slip away.

"You guys…" Emily's voice carried a sharp edge. "Where's Morgan?"

David swore loudly. Aaron's jaw tightened painfully. _Damnit…!_ "Prentiss, you're sharing a car with me. Try to call Morgan on our way there. If he barges in alone he'll risk his safety as well as Reid's."

David nodded in agreement. "You saw the state of mind he was in, Aaron. There's no telling what he does when he gets there."

Aaron took a deep breath, futilely trying to silence the chaos roaring inside his head. "Let's get going. It's only a matter of time before Sykes or Morgan will make their move. We've gotta get there before that happens."

* * *

Spencer knew what was ahead of him the second Sebastian finally stood up, those dangerous eyes fully focused on him. Slow, perfectly even steps approached him. "It's like I told you, dear. When that camera is turned on again your time has ran out." A knife was pulled out. "You'll be long gone by the time your team gets here."

Spencer struggled, fought, tried to hang on to whatever hope there was left with absolutely everything he had. The violent tugs only succeeded in cutting the wounds on his wrists deeper. Only intensified the pain that was already everywhere. If there'd been no gag stopping him Spencer would've screamed at the top of his lungs.

He really, honestly didn't want to die.

Not here.

Not like this.

Sebastian looked into his eyes, seeming to wonder. "If you could… would you pray for your life? Like the others did? Would you beg me to save you?" The man brushed his face with shockingly gentle fingertips, making him shudder. A chuckle broke out. "You can't even imagine how desirable you look in my eyes right now. It's truly exciting to hold your life in my hands. It'll be amazing to bring an end to it. I thank you for this gift."

If he'd been able to Spencer would've snorted at the surreal, ridiculously horrific situation. Once more he struggled, tried to discover something he might've missed before, but no help was offered. No hope was offered.

Instead Sebastian kept approaching, the hold on the knife even firmer than before. "This is the same knife that gave me most of my scars, you know? _His _knife." Those eyes flashed. "It's only befitting that I get to put his ghost to an end with its help."

Spencer stared at the bloodied knife, unable to speak, unable to do a thing to protect himself. He saw the look in Sebastian's eyes, took in the dark fire that wasn't about to go anywhere. Spencer watched, and realized something with disheartening certainty.

He was going to die. Just like all those other victims. His time was up.

Instead of the killer he focused on the camera, on the still blinking red light. There were no tears in his eyes. He was too much in a shock to shed any. His heart hammered mercilessly while he sent out a desperate prayer.

_Please, don't watch… You don't need to see this._

The knife was placed to his throat. Firmly. With certainty and experience. "It'll all be over quickly, dear. Don't worry. You'll barely even feel a thing."

Spencer kept staring at the red light. Kept hanging on to hope for a little bit longer. And then, hearing nothing but Sebastian's breathing and his own raging heartbeat, let himself sink.

_Don't watch…_

He'd given them everything he'd been able to. They had enough to nail Sebastian; perhaps not to save him, but for someone else who hadn't been harmed yet. He'd given his all. In the end that'd have to do.

For a couple of more seconds he kept staring at the red light. As the knife pressed tighter he closed his eyes, slowly, slowly. Letting go. And he wasn't alone.

For the last time he felt David's hand on his shoulder.

For the last time he saw Penelope's radiant smile.

For the last time he felt Emily's arms around him.

For the last time he heard Aaron's words of compliment and approval.

For the last time he saw the look in JJ's eyes when he held Henry for the first time.

For the last time he felt Derek ruffling his hair.

And there, in his last moments, it was the sound of his mom reading that guided him on, that escorted him away from the world.

Sebastian was true to his word, at least. When the blade slashed all Spencer felt was a microsecond of pain. That's all. How oddly anticlimatic.

"It's over, now."

Spencer wasn't aware of suffocating on his own blood. He didn't even feel the blood flowing. There was a moment of cold before this inexplainable warmth wrapped around him like a blanket. For the second time in his life the comforting white light engulfed him. This time no one would be pulling him away from it.

* * *

Derek, who'd already reached his destination, had never been running as fast as he did just then. He ran like the devil had been chasing him, despair pushing him forward mercilessly. He ran, ran and ran, down the stairs, through a endlessly long, dark hallway.

The heavy, metallic door at the end of the hallway wasn't locked. It was there Derek's whole body froze for a second, ice spreading through his veins. A part of him knew before he ever kicked the door open, his gun held high and prepared for anything.

Anything, except for what was waiting for him.

Spencer… looked like he'd been sleeping. The genius' eyes were closed softly and his head hung low. Derek might've been fooled if it wasn't for the river of blood. For the gaping hole that stretched across his best friend's throat.

Derek didn't even realize that the nearly inhuman, feral cry was ripped from his own throat. Wouldn't have given a damn even if he had known. "No…! No, NO!"

Still holding on to a fool's hope, refusing to believe what was right there in front of him, Derek dashed forward. Spencer was still trapped by Sebastian's handcuffs and Derek didn't have a key so he tipped the whole chair down, gently, gently. Finally giving himself the permission to fall down he crashed down on his knees beside Spencer, searching frantically.

There wasn't a pulse. But Spencer… He was still warm. Even the blood, which was all over Derek's hands by then, was warm. There was no way in hell…!

Derek didn't even notice the tears filling his eyes while he pushed desperately, trying to force some life into the heart. Every other second trying to apply pressure on the neck wound. But he was running out of hands. Running out of hope. "C'mon, Reid…!" he cried out. Nothing. No response. No reaction. Derek's hand shook when he pulled the sickening gag out of Spencer's mouth as quickly as he could and threw it away, with such force that it _hurt_. There was blood all over Spencer's unmoving lips. No breath or words fell through them. "Spencer, c'mon…" Still nothing but silence. "Spencer, don't…! Don't do this to me!" But Spencer didn't start to breathe. The blood didn't disappear. The nightmare didn't end. "Spencer, please…!"

Nothing happened. Spencer was gone. Derek had been too late. Too fucking late.

Derek was choking, barely able to breathe. The little shake he gave Spencer's painfully still form didn't do any good so he tried again, with significantly more force. Again. And again. And again. Screaming until his voice ran out. Screaming although there was no hope left anymore.

"Please…!"

* * *

Back at the station JJ's legs no longer supported her weight as she stared at the sight unfolding right before her tear filled eyes. Her mouth was open but the scream just wouldn't come. Not when she was barely able to breathe.

It'd been bad enough to watch Sykes kill Spencer in cold blood, to watch how a single flick of a wrist ended the life of her dearest friend.

Now… Now she was stuck on watching Derek's attempts to revive what'd already been lost. Watching Derek falling apart. Because already at that moment she knew that things would never, ever be alright again.

Nothing – _nothing_ – would ever be the same again.

JJ's tears finally started falling when the rest of the team barged into the room. Much too late. It took the combined force of Aaron and David to tear a struggling Derek away from Spencer's body. She couldn't hear David's words all the way to where she was but the tears shimmering in the man's eyes spoke loudly enough.

As soon as Derek was exhausted enough to be restrained by one man Aaron moved towards Spencer, his steps stiff and visibly feeble. The unit chief checked – checked although the amount of blood, the injury and Spencer's still chest made it pointless – only to reach the obvious, sombre conclusion. JJ was almost sure that she saw tears in Aaron's eyes when the man's lips moved. She could understand a few words.

"_I'm so sorry._"

Spencer, of course, didn't respond in any way. But Aaron didn't budge from his spot beside the young man. The unit chief's hand shook when it moved away from Spencer, letting go for the last time.

Emily, on the other hand, stood completely frozen. Suddenly there wasn't a shred left of the brunette's famous self control. She stood, paralyzed by what were most likely the exact same things coursing through JJ's body. Was the woman even breathing? And then, as though sleepwalking, Emily made her way to the camera, obviously avoiding even glancing towards Spencer's battered corpse. Up close JJ could see that Emily's tears were already rolling. With the eyes of someone who'd just lost a part of themselves Emily switched off the camera.

For a couple of moments JJ stared at the suddenly black screen, her eyes wide and full of a storm. So many things spinning through her that she wondered if she was falling apart physically. And finally she found her voice.

JJ screamed, at the top of her lungs, and wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to stop.

* * *

Already at a safe distance from the chaos he'd left behind a fully dressed Sebastian walked on the side of a tiny, long ago forgotten road. Sand twirled around his bare feet that'd been abused bloodied by the distance he'd already covered. His mouth screamed for water but he disregarded the urge. The satisfaction still twirling through his veins overcame everything else.

The feel of Spencer's blood… He'd never experienced anything quite like that. No one had ever looked at him the way Spencer did, defied him that way. It was a tragedy, really, that they had so very little time together. Sebastian wondered if he'd ever feel anything like that again.

Sebastian was awakened from his thoughts by the sound of a approaching car. He blinked twice with curiosity, tensing up slightly. No one else was supposed to be on this road. He wasn't supposed to be spotted.

His hand slipping to the knife that just claimed another victim Sebastian paused, then turned just in time to see a filthy, black Sedan parking beside him. The passenger's door was opened, revealing the driver. His eyebrow bounced up.

Had the other side of her face not been covered in scars the woman would've been strikingly beautiful. The red of her long, wavy hair was just perfect; not too bright or dull. Her dark eyes promised a storm and her well formed body – complimented by dark clothes – whispered the kind of a danger that'd always allured Sebastian. She was a latino, perhaps, or exotic for some other reason. A wild thing. She appeared familiar, somehow, but Sebastian couldn't understand why. Not that he would've cared too much at the moment.

"Do you need a ride?" she finally inquired, tilting her head slightly. He immediately decided that he liked her voice.

Sebastian nodded, allowing himself a smile. "Thank you." Those words tasted foreign while he slid into the vehicle and shut the door.

"So…", the woman half purred after a prolonged silence. "Where, exactly, are you going?"

Sebastian actually thought about that for a while. Where was he headed? There'd be road blocks everywhere unless he chose tiny roads such as this one. How far would he get? "As far away from here as possible", was his eventual, surprisingly honest answer.

The woman's eyes flashed dangerously. "That… can be arranged." And at that very instant Sebastian knew that he was in a deep trouble.

Sebastian's reflexes were fast but nowhere near enough to beat the woman who'd been prepared long before she even found him. Before he could do a thing a needle had already pieced his skin. The drug burned like a flame on its way through.

The woman looked directly to his eyes. "They were too slow to catch you…", she hissed. "… but we're about to make sure that you'll go to hell, James Grey."

Sebastian fought, with absolutely all his might. But the drug was stronger. She was the last person he ever saw on the face of this world.

After carefully making sure that Sebastian was fully unconscious Elle Greenaway took her cell phone, focusing on the tiny road ahead. "We were too late", she announced instantly, a bitter taste filling her mouth. A hurricane of memories crossed her head until she stopped it sharply. "But I've got him."

There was a long, heavy silence. She could hear the grief. "_Bring him down here. It's time to make him pay for his sins._"

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: Awkay… (takes a deep breath) That was quite wrenching, with the lack of a better word. Poor, poor Reid – poor all of them!

So… You guys probably want to chew my head off now, don't you? (back away really, really slowly) PLEASE, leave a review to let me know just how badly! Seriously, let me hear what you're thinking. Anything, at all…?

Until next time, folks! I hope that you'll all stay tuned despite the tragic turn of events.

Take care! And despite this horribly sad chapter, HAPPY HOLIDAYS!


	9. Paradise Lost

A/N: Awright… (sighs) The end of this story is almost here. Soon we'll find out how everyone in the team reacts to the tragedy. (wipes eyes) BUT, first things first…

THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart and soul, for your reviews! So many of you sent one. (BEAMS, and glomps – tightly) You guys are amazing. Thank you!

Awkay… Because I left you into a quite horrible spot, I think you want to get on with the story already. (takes a breath) 'Hope you'll enjoy this bit of the race (although it's going to be quie sad).

* * *

'_Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit_

_Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste_

_Brought death into the world, and all our woe._'

(John Milton, "Paradise Lost")

* * *

Paradise Lost

* * *

Penelope Garcia hated waiting, but today it was even worse than usual. When she knew that Spencer's life was on the line. When she didn't even know if…

She'd left at least fifty unanswered calls to all their phones before hers finally rang. It was Emily. She picked up instantly, her whole body so tense that it hurt. It was a miracle that she managed to speak with how dry and choked her throat felt. "What's going on?" She sounded like a little girl. Her heart almost literally stopped when there was no response, only silence and what could've been a gasp. "He's… He's okay, right? You got him out, didn't you?"

The smothering silence lasted horribly too long until Penelope finally realized that Emily wasn't gasping. Instead the woman who'd always been so in control, strong, was sobbing. Loudly. With what can only be called sheer heartbreak. "Garcia…" The rest never made it out. Didn't even have to.

The phone slipped from Penelope's hold while she brought a hand to her mouth, feeling like suffocating. She attempted to scream but couldn't. Didn't know if she'd ever utter a sound again.

* * *

Nothing in the world around him made sense to David. He stayed in that horrendous room long after the others had already left, one by one becoming unable to watch the CSIs working. By the time they brought in a body bag David's resolve finally broke and he half dashed away, unable to look although he would've desperately wanted to. The press, of course, was already there. As was the local police. The million questions thrown his way – by both authorities and parasites who didn't have a shred of humanity in them – were nothing but a blur to him. The constantly flashing cameras made him feel sick with rage. His head was spinning and aching, drowning into all those things it just couldn't process at the moment.

Eventually someone had enough reason to take him away from that unbearable place. Much, much later David wished that he'd at least had the capacity to thank the young officer who offered to drive him to the station. David accepted the offer gladly, wanting to get as far away as possible as fast as possible.

As though it would've been possible to escape from the reality.

David had no idea of how long he'd been wandering around the station until he saw a familiar figure, all alone in a dark break room. Aaron had buried his face into both hands and slumped to a chair so heavily that it didn't look like the man would ever find the will to get up again. The unit chief's posture alone showed such a amount of pain, grief and anger that it made David wince.

David approached soundlessly, almost cautiously. Nonetheless Aaron noticed him. "Have they found that bastard yet?" the unit chief asked in a somewhat muffled voice, the hands still on his face.

David sighed, feeling old beyond his years. There was a bitter taste in his mouth. "Not yet. But he'll pay for this, one way or the other." He rubbed his face with one hand, trying to overcome the stinging sensation in his eyes. "Where are the others?"

Aaron shook his head. It took a long time before the hands finally dropped. Although tears couldn't be seen anymore those eyes were red and puffy as they strayed towards the cell phone sitting right next to the man. The unit chief swallowed laboriously. "I'm… supposed to call his mom. To tell her that… that he died because we were too slow. That he was taken, right underneath the eyes of federal agents. To tell her that because of our mistakes she's never going to see her son again."

David took a deep breath, folding his arms as he crashed down beside his friend. His legs shook, as did his whole body. "This isn't our fault, Aaron." Spencer knew that they'd done everything they could. He _had to_ know. Didn't he?

Aaron met his eyes. "Do you honestly believe that?"

David couldn't say anything to that. Heavy, hard silence lingered in the room until Aaron finally took the cell phone and dialed numbers. David sat there beside the unit chief because he didn't think that he would've been able to walk away even if he tried. No matter how badly he would've wanted to be _anywhere_ else.

A couple of tears finally fell when he heard Diana Reid's shrill, animalistic cry through the phone.

* * *

Sitting in a hospital's waiting room was at least bearable when there was the slightest bit of hope that something good might prevail. When the bad news hadn't been delivered already. JJ felt a lot of things she wasn't proud of as she watched a family after another laughing and crying from joy, watched how a relieved doctor after another walked in.

What right did they have to rejoice when…?

"Agent Jareau?" She looked to side with startle upon hearing a soft male voice. The man stood only a couple of steps away had to be almost sixty. Brown hair, eyes of such warm grey that made it difficult not to look at them. "We've… processed the body, if you wish to see him now."

She nodded stiffly, clearing her throat. She couldn't help wondering if she'd be able to walk at all, let alone enter the room where… "Thank you."

The coroner – Beck – frowned, observing her. "Are you… sure that you want to do this alone? I could…"

JJ shook her head firmly although she felt anything but sure. Her eyes stung hellishly but she toughened herself. If Spencer was strong enough to take all that… "I'm sure", she uttered but didn't manage to sound too convincing. She took a deep breath, then decided to go on before she'd lose her voice entirely. "He… He would've wanted to be cremated. He would've hated… hated being buried into the dark and cold."

Beck nodded gently but fortunately didn't even try to smile. "That's good to know." The man waited for a second, then asked cautiously. "I'm so sorry for having to ask this now, but… Are you going to take care of the funeral arrangements?"

_Funeral…_ The mere word made JJ shudder, made her want to throw up or at least scream at top of her lungs. This was all starting to feel far too real… How she managed a nod she'd never know.

"Alright. I just needed to know that for paperwork. Don't worry, when you're ready I'll help you make sure that everything's taken care of properly." He gave her a couple of moments before laying a hand on her shoulder. She leaned on it against her will and wondered how many he'd seen do the same. "Now let's go and see him."

JJ hadn't even tried to prepare herself because she'd known that nothing would've been enough. It'd only hurt more if the impact would tear down illusions on its way down. What she faced sweeped her off her feet, wiped her mind blank for a second.

Spencer looked hopelessly small, broken and lonely on the morgue's table. The work done was impressive but nothing could've disguised the missing ear or fingers. No amount of preparations made Spencer alive again.

JJ didn't notice how the coroner left as soon as he could be sure that she wouldn't pass out. Wouldn't have cared even if she had. All her focus was on Spencer.

Her legs weighed a ton each while she made her way to the genius, took the man's hand. It felt unnaturally cold in hers. She squeezed tighter, blinking furiously. "I'm sorry, Spence", she breathed, unable to look away from his lifeless face. "I'm sorry."

No matter how ridiculous she knew it to be a part of her expected him to open his eyes, expected him to tell her that it was alright. But nothing such happened. The well stitched autopsy wounds crossing his chest were a loud enough proof of a unthinkable reality.

No longer managing to fight back the tears JJ leaned closer, pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. For a fleeting moment she thought she felt warmth, only to realize that it was hers. Her quivering lips moved, whispering words only meant for his ears.

She stayed there until they came to take his body away, keeping him company. Holding his hand, whispering hollow nothings. She'd never felt so utterly lonely before and could only pray that Spencer didn't feel the same.

* * *

Since he was a little boy Derek had always believed in justice. Even after his dad's death. Even after Carl. But late that evening, as sat in a car on the very edge of Alabama, Derek didn't have the slightest idea of what to believe in anymore.

There was no reason. There was no justice.

No mercy.

Not anymore.

Moonlight shone on his hands, which were still covered in Spencer's blood. Once again the sight of his best friend's dead face filled Derek's vision. Derek squeezed his eyes tightly shut, gritted his teeth to smother the scream. Memories assaulted his head mercilessly.

* * *

/ _Once again he saw, as clearly as if it was happening all over again, the nervous and insecure boy who appeared to the bureau for the first time. Saw that timid smile. "Uh… Hi. I'm Dr. Spencer Reid. The… new guy."_ /

* * *

/ _Once more he was there when Spencer helped the team solve a case for the first time. He was the one who stepped forth, gave the genius a pat on the shoulder. "Nice work, kid."_

_He hoped, from the bottom of his heart and soul, that he'd never forget the way Spencer smiled on that day. It was the purest thing he'd ever seen._ /

* * *

/ _He was there when the reality of Spencer's first fatal shot finally sunk in, just like Jason had predicted. They spent the whole night watching the TV and drowning themselves on extremely bad coffee._ /

* * *

/ _Once again he watched how Spencer died for the first time, right there in Hankel's hands. Feared. Screamed on the inside. Roared. Grieved. It was the first time he caught a glimpse of the reality that one day he might lose his best friend. But never, even in his worst nightmares, did he expect it to happen this soon._ /

* * *

/ _"__Come on, guys. Gentle lights, shadowy figures? Those are the lights in the emergency room and the doctors hovering over the patients, we all know that. No one actually sees the afterlife."_

_"I did. __Before Tobias Hankel resuscitated me, I had that exact experience, and I wasn't in an emergency room. I was in a shed."_ / (1)

* * *

There was so much anger in him that his whole body was shaking, as though about to fall apart. He'd felt wrath like that before. Only this time… This time, he wasn't a helpless little boy. He was a grown man.

He was able to act.

Slowly, testingly, Derek opened his smouldering eyes, allowed them to rise where stars were beginning to appear. They seemed unnaturally bright to him. His stomach knotted and his chest felt much too tight.

"Reid, I… I don't know if you're up there, watching. But… If you are… I'm sorry." He swallowed. The blockage in his throat didn't go anywhere. "I… I know that you wouldn't want me to do this. That you wouldn't want to see me turn into… this. But… I need this, alright? This is the only path that I see ahead of me anymore."

For a brief moment he could've sworn that he actually felt Spencer's familiar presence. A tender brush. A plea. But it disappeared as fast as it'd appeared, like it'd never even been there.

Like Spencer had never even been there.

Once more Derek closed his eyes. This time he didn't see Spencer's face. He couldn't stop himself from wondering how long it'd take before he'd forget completely. Before the picture he had in mind was nothing but a distorted façade.

He took a deep breath. It hurt more than he could've ever imagined. "I'm sorry, pretty boy", he murmured, starting the car once more. "Forgive me."

As Derek exhilarated the car and speeded away the vehicle emitted the roar he didn't manage to. He didn't look back as he left. This time he wasn't running away from the devil. He was charging head first towards it.

(It wasn't until the following morning Aaron found Derek's gun and credentials from a desk at the police station. There was no letter. No apology. No explanation. Aaron understood anyway.)

* * *

The moment Sebastian Sykes woke up he knew, with utmost certainty, that he was doomed. When he saw white (albeit stained with grey and a million cracks) he didn't mistake it for heaven even for a second. He knew hell when he saw one.

Gagging against the horrendous stench that slapped him across the face he blinked rapidly, desperately trying to focus. It was then he saw the red amongst all the filth on the floor. Fresh blood. His blood. The pain coursing everywhere through his body spoke volumes. Slowly, feeling dizzy, he looked down and almost snorted at what he found. Some of his fingers had been removed. Judging by the pain pummeling his head his ear was gone as well. Some karma…

What… What the hell happened to him? What…?

After at least a full minute he was finally composed enough to look up. He looked, and saw what several people before him had seen right before their painful deaths. He looked straight at his doom.

_ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS TO OPEN THE DOOR_

As he crawled towards his slow, painful end Sebastian couldn't see the eyes watching him.

Jason Gideon's eyes were even darker than usual when he watched a yet another doomed soul struggling its way towards the inevitable end. Watched the man who'd just killed Spencer in cold blood bleed, screaming in rage and pain. Watched, something inside of him falling apart without a sound.

Years ago he lost his faith in himself. In profiling. He lost his way, his purpose. Himself. He found another purpose, another destiny, when he got a phone call in the middle of the night, announcing that his son had been murdered. He died in his own way, holding a gun to his head for two hours before driving away instead. On that day he was reborn. He'd felt no remorse since. He'd never once looked back.

Until now.

Elle, who'd been quiet until that very moment, finally spoke. Her voice was lighter and fainter than a whisper, a ghost. "It's over."

Jason nodded, feeling so much at one go that he went numb. "Yeah. It is." And what a bitter end it was.

Sebastian had almost reached the end. The man was already whispering their names. "_Charles Stewart… Alex Durbin… __Jonathan Nash… Nicholas Stone… Kenneth Jackson… Spencer Reid._"

Jason closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, mostly to restrain a scream. _I'm sorry, Spencer_, he sent out, hoping that the genius heard it, wherever he was now. Tears wanted to roll but he held them back. Tears wouldn't do anyone any good. _I'm so sorry that I couldn't save you._

Slowly, slowly, Jason opened his eyes. Elle didn't comment in any way when he turned around and began to walk away. Her eyes didn't seem entirely dry, either.

On his way away Jason froze upon feeling a brush of warm air. It felt so much like a caress that he shivered. It felt familiar.

It felt like a goodbye.

Jason sighed, his shoulders slumping heavily. Swallowed against the lump in his throat. Kept fighting the tears. "Goodbye, Spencer." Because he knew, for a fact, that he'd never get to wherever Spencer was taken. He didn't deserve it after everything he'd done.

Jason stood completely, utterly still for a moment. Two, three. For a tiny eternity. Then continued on, into a tiny, tightly locked room where even Elle didn't have access to. On the table lay a small book, with red leather covers.

His face not quite devoid of all emotions Jason opened the book, found an empty page and wrote, his hand far from steady.

_'Sebastian Sykes/ James Grey'_

* * *

'_They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld_

_Of Paradise, so late their happy seat,_

_Waved over by that flaming brand; the gate_

_With dreadful faces thronged, and fiery arms:_

_Some natural tears they dropt, but wiped them soon;_

_The world was all before them, where to choose_

_Their place of rest, and Providence their guide:_

_They, hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow,_

_Through Eden took their solitary way._'

(John Milton, "Paradise Lost")

* * *

TBC (for an epilogue)

* * *

1) An actual line from the episode "Epilogue" (season seven).

* * *

A/N: GOSH! (takes a deep, shuddering breath) Okay, so that was seriously sad stuff. We'll see just how in the world they're all going to get through this. Things are never going to be the same, are they?

**PLEASE**, do leave a review before you go! Was that any good? Your support would mean the world to me as I start to prepare the final chapter. (gives puppy's eyes)

ONLY ONE MORE LEFT. (Gosh, I can't believe that this is coming to an end!) (sobs a little)

Until next time, folks! 'Hope I'll meet you there.

Take care!  
AND HAVE A HAPPY NEW YEAR!


	10. Epilogue

A/N: After all the pain, death and heartache in the previous two chapters this story is coming to an end. (sobs) Gah, I'm seriously not ready to let this go!

BUT, first… Thank you so much for your fantastic reviews! (HUGS) You guys are super fantastic, you know? I've been struggling with a nasty flue and you have been like rays of sun. So thank you!

Awkay… Last chapters always make me nervous so let's get going. I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride!

* * *

Epilogue

* * *

_Three Years Later._

* * *

It was raining hard all over the state of Virginia on that day as a BAU unit chief Jennifer Jareau stared out the window, followed with vacant eyes how heavy drops crawled down, one by one. She emitted a shuddering sigh, running a unsteady hand through her shortcut, dark dyed hair. She took a tiny bit of comfort from the imagined feel of a touch on her shoulder. Of the feel that perhaps, just perhaps, she wasn't alone in the room, after all.

She wondered if Aaron Hotchner felt like this, too, once upon a time. Before leaving it all behind and ripping himself free. If he had this same weight sitting on his chest every time he came back from a case and realized that there'd be a empty home waiting for him.

(Suddenly JJ remembered, to the word, every single fight she had with Will until he finally had enough about a year and a half ago. As much as it killed her JJ didn't fight over Henry's custody too bitterly. Her son deserved the best and she couldn't offer that. Only seeing him every other weekend was killing her but he was happy and raised by a loving parent. That had to be enough.)

Deciding that she'd never be able to leave if she didn't now JJ took a deep breath, bracing herself, then put her jacket on and walked out of the office. Once out she stopped for a moment, allowed her eyes to linger on her team. She couldn't resist a small sigh. As always, there were altogether seven of them.

Sean Timbley, their new computer expert, wasn't your average nerd. The very attractive twenty-six year old with slightly messy black hair and lively brown eyes was caught hacking a couple of years ago. On that day he was sure that he'd go to jail. Instead JJ walked into the interrogation room with a job offer. ('_This is your last chance._') Once, when the team was out partying and he'd had more to drink than he should've, Sean asked her why she saved him. She told him '_Because some things in history need to repeat themselves_'. (She'd never once regretted her questionable decision.)

Katie Humbert was their new media liaison. A bright, extremely kind woman in her late twenties with long, burgundy hair and blue eyes. Despite having grown up the hard way in a bad part of New York the woman had managed to maintain this aura of purity. JJ wondered how long it'd hold with the nightmares they faced almost every day.

Cole Holiday, thirty five and the father of a three-year-old Jessica and the husband of one Tina, was an odd bird, even for a member of her team. The large, scar faced man with piercing black eyes and bald head would've startled just about anyone. But JJ also knew that the man's IQ was 160 and he was a master when it came to chess. And an expert on human minds. He was the first person she and Aaron (the last two left) chose for the team. He'd been her greatest support since.

Jaimee York, age fifty-five with shortcut brown hair and terrifyingly hard water colored eyes, was by no means a motherly figure. She had a sharp tongue that'd earned her a lot of enemies. Jaimee's military background had moulded the unquestionably intelligent woman into a dangerous hunter. Having someone like her in the team definitely kept JJ on her toes.

Hank Collum, who was exactly of JJ's age, was definitely her biggest headache. Perfectly styled dark hair, a boyish smile and devious, impossibly blue eyes. Incredibly smart. Dangerously alluring and aware of it. So far she'd found herself from his bed five times.

And then there was their youngest. Nicholas Xander was only twenty-four but his huge hazel eyes appeared dacades older. (JJ found herself looking into them sometimes and getting lost into the days of past. Almost managed to forget who she was really looking at. Only his long dark hair he always held on a ponytail reminded her of the reality.) The first time he crossed paths with another FBI-team he was only seventeen and the only survived victim of a dangerous killer. Strauss protested against choosing him loudly but had been powerless against a flood of recommendations. Seeing the quiet, extremely reserved man coming out of his shell was all the proof JJ needed that the fight had been worth it.

Despite their emotional packages, pasts and varying personalities they were a very good team. With some more experience they'd be excellent. One day they would consider the team a family, just like her original team did. JJ prayed, every single day, that once they'd reach that unison they'd never, ever have to experience the pain of losing one member of it. That this team would never have to know such agony.

JJ didn't know how long she might've stood there, wandering in her thoughts, if they hadn't noticed her.

Cole winced. "Oh, c'mon! We just got back home from a case. Don't tell me that Strauss threw us another one already."

JJ shook her head, trying to give her friend a smile and failing. "No, we don't have a new case. I'm just on my way out. There's… something I need to do today, now that I'm home." On her way out she gave them all a small wave, hoping that the look on her face would silence them from asking more questions. "Have good weekend, guys."

"Jaye." Hank's face held a frown. The man's eyes shone with suspicion. "Are you sure that you're alright?" The agent's northern accent was thicker than usual.

JJ nodded, unable to speak. She knew that there was no need for explanations. Every single agent in the FBI was familiar with the tragedy that'd torn her former team to pieces. They knew how important this day was to her.

With a one more wave she left, not looking back although she heard whispers and murmurs, felt eyes on her back. As soon as she was outside and able to breathe properly again she took her cell phone. The familiar numbers were easy to find. "I noticed that you'd tried to call. I'll be there in fifteen minutes." She hopped into her car with a sigh, rubbing her eyes. "Let's hope that everyone will be there this year."

* * *

An hour later four umbrellas appeared to the cemetery. They all gathered around a certain headstone, futilely trying to find comfort from one another. All eyes were locked on the words, on the name that shouldn't have been there.

_Spencer Andrew Reid_

David Rossi sighed. JJ tried not to distinguish the reek of alcohol. "Can you believe that it's been three years?" The man's eyes were red, puffy and tired. Something a thousand sleepless nights with nothing but typing and drinking could do. (David was among the first ones to leave, six months after Spencer's death. The man had published two new books since, which gave a quite bleak picture of just what the life of a federal agent could be like. Ironically, those books had been his biggest best sellers thus far.)

"No", Aaron murmured without pausing to consider. "It feels more like three decades." (It was a surprise that the unit chief managed to hang on for as long as he did. A year ago, almost to date, Aaron finally had enough. A schizophrenic UnSub with a violent past and striking physical resemblance to Spencer was what did it. When the troubled soul who hadn't even seen his thirtieth birthday committed a suicide right before their eyes JJ wanted to quit for a while, too. '_What difference does it make if I'm late wherever I am?_' Aaron asked her before making his decision, quite a lot drunker than he should've been. Not much later district's office welcomed Aaron with open arms.)

Emily Prentiss sighed heavily. The woman's eyes were far away, seeing something none of them could even imagine. These days the woman's much longer hair had a reddish shade and her face held a lot more makeup than before. Sometimes JJ wondered if this person was Emily Prentiss or Lauren Raynolds. "Amen to that." (After Derek, of course, Emily was the first one of them who took off, right after Spencer's funeral. Interpol was calling her to London and she didn't hesitate to accept, eager to escape from all the ghosts and shadows chasing her every step. They'd promised to keep in touch but JJ barely heard from the former agent outside these annual meetings. JJ made no attempt to push her. After three years she didn't know if it was moving on or running away.)

They stood in a silence for the longest time, lost in days they'd lost a long time ago. Giving in under the temptation of 'what ifs' and 'maybes'. They weren't swayed from that destructive trail until they heard approaching steps.

There was a apologetic look on Penelope Garcia's face. And trails of tears. "'Sorry that I'm late", the blonde, who wore a little bit less color these days, stopped a couple of steps away. "The traffic from San Francisco was impossible." (Penelope tried, she really did. But in the end the darkness around her just got too much, especially when everyone started leaving. When she got the offer to join the team they'd met in San Francisco Penelope accepted after giving the idea of a lot of thought. It was easy to see that the transfer had done her good.)

JJ didn't even try to smile. "It's okay. We haven't been here for long, either." She then frowned, having been a profiler for much too long. "What's going on?" Because she could tell that something aside the obvious was bothering her friend.

Penelope swallowed thickly. "I… I've been writing to his mom sometimes. You know, since letting her listen to the recording." There were tears in the blonde's eyes she didn't wipe away. "Yesterday they called me, from the hospital. Diana Reid died a couple of days earlier, in her sleep during the night. They think that it was a massive stroke. They said that she had a smile on her face."

They all shivered, feeling a stab of sadness. Even relief, although it disturbed them to feel that way. Diana was with Spencer, now. She'd take a good care of him.

Once again it was silent as they stood huddled together, like a group of lost little children. Drawing comfort from one another. Feeling that at least for a tiny moment, just for a little while, Spencer was there with them.

Finally Penelope looked around. Her eyes darkened as the realization dawned. "No sign of Derek, huh?"

JJ shivered, as did the rest of them. They hadn't seen or heard from Derek since the day Spencer died. Perhaps they should've gotten used to the man's absence by now but they hadn't. It was the worst kind of pain, not knowing if… "I left his voicemail a message. Told him that we're all worried. That it'd mean a lot to us to see him here", JJ told the blonde, her voice a little deeper than usual. "I guess that he still isn't ready yet." What a lame excuse, but it was the best she could come up with.

Penelope sighed. "Maybe next year", she suggested, some hope appearing into her voice. "I mean… There's always the next year."

Slowly, deep in thought, they nodded one by one in agreement. "Yeah", David finally voiced. "There's always the next year." And somehow that was the best kind of hope they could find just then, in the rain by their lost little brother.

The five of them stood there without making a sound, unable to tear their eyes away from the tombstone although it was the last thing any of them wanted to see. Finally, after three years, they no longer asked themselves if things would ever be the same again – it was clear that they wouldn't be.

Three years ago, to date, something precious and irreplaceable had been smashed to pieces. Their family had fallen apart. Something was missing and there was no way they'd ever get it back. But still, somehow, they'd have to go on. Just like they had until this day, step by step and day by day. No matter how much it hurt sometimes.

They owed Spencer that much, didn't they?

The rain kept falling mercilessly around them.

* * *

Aaron was honestly supposed to go home right after the cemetery. He couldn't. Instead he found himself heading to a tiny, reeking bar almost outside the city. Before stepping in he tried to ignore the sickening thought that the reflection on the filthy door's window looked far too much like his father. His steps slow and almost hesitant he made his way to the middle aged, greasy looking male bartender and ordered a beer.

He'd barely received his order when he heard a much too familiar voice. "One beer, please."

Aaron's eyes widened as he sat perfectly still, recognizing the presence beside him even without looking. His stomach twisted and knotted. After three years… "We were expecting you today." It took a moment before he realized that the voice came from him.

Finally he looked. Derek Morgan appeared tired and shaggy, especially with the beginning of a beard. The former agent's clothes hung in a way that suggested that he'd lost weight. The man sighed heavily, not touching the beer. "I was supposed to come. But… There was something else that I took care of instead."

Aaron sighed, all of a sudden feeling tired and old. His hand shook ever so slightly when he took a sip of his own drink. "You should come back home, Morgan." There was bizarre tingling on his tongue. "Your mother calls me every day, asking if I've heard anything. Garcia doesn't call but just today I saw her heart break into pieces when you weren't there. Whatever it is that you've been doing for these past three years… Your family misses you. We all do."

With a single, extremely loaded motion Derek pushed the beer away. There was a look in the man's eyes he didn't recognize. "Well… You can tell them to stop missing me. And the next time my mom calls… Tell her to stop waiting." Aaron wouldn't have been surprised if the dark skinned man would've punched him right there and then. Instead the former agent got up stiffly, as though the motion had hurt, and began to walk away.

Derek was almost out of earshot when Aaron spoke once more. "Morgan." He peered over his shoulder to see a extremely tense back. "I just got a call, this morning. They found Sykes' body. The time of death seems to be almost right after Reid's death. According to the autopsy report the murder was brutal. He suffered a lot."

Derek was silent for the longest time until there was a bitter, almost hissing voice. "What do you expect me to say, Hotch? Do you want me to feel sorry for him? Because I never will."

Aaron took a deep breath. For some reason he missed the familiar feel of his gun. "No. I don't expect that. Honestly, I'm glad that he's dead." He didn't like the taste lingering in his mouth. "I just… thought that you should know."

Derek nodded, still not looking towards him. "Take care of yourself, Aaron. And all of them, this time." The accusation wasn't hidden. There was no forgiveness, no relief, for either one of them.

Aaron couldn't move or speak, couldn't do a thing, as he watched Derek walk away. Couldn't do a thing although at that very moment he _knew_. He'd never felt so cold in his life.

* * *

Two hours later the door of a warehouse that'd been built in the middle of nowhere screeched as Derek entered, working his hardest to keep his steps from faltering. The hallway that led to his companions had never felt so long.

Jason Gideon and Elle Greenaway both gave him a look. It was Jason who spoke. "Are you alright?"

Derek nodded slowly, folding his arms. It hurt like hell but he'd be better as soon as his brain would get something else to focus on. "Enough so to be able to work." His eyes – his whole body – were hard. Made of stone. "Who's our next target?"

And just like that they returned to whatever level of normalcy could be expected for the three of them. As usual Jason did the introductions. "Gabriel Harris, age thirty-six. So far he's murdered four women in Philadelphia. He tortures, rapes and starves them for a week until he skins them alive. So far the local police has been circling around the case for a month without being able to catch him…"

* * *

'_He who does not punish evil commands it to be done._'

(Leonardo da Vinci)

* * *

**_End._**

* * *

A/N: Oh dear… (sighs and takes a deep breath) I seriously can't believe that this fic is coming to an end! It's been such an amazing ride! I'm going to miss this weird lil' thing.

You guys, thank yous so much for sticking through despite all the sadness and grief! The reviews and listings... You guys are a fantastic audience. (GLOMPS) THANK YOU! You're one of the best parts of all this.

I've gotta go now. Once again, thank you! Who knows, maybe I'll see you again one day.

Take care!


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